And When the Gauntlet’s Down
by Artemis Rae
Summary: She cursed Lord Zuko and his inability to keep peace when it was handed to him. The struggle against the madness of the new Fire Lord. Future AU, featuring Kataang, Tokka and some Maiko.
1. A Cold and Broken Hallelujah

**Title**: And When the Gauntlet's Down  
**Rating**: T, for now. May go up to M much later, however.  
**A/N:** This is an AU fic, set in the future after the current war. I got the idea for this one shot in particular, and ended up building the universe around it. In short, Zuko's taken the throne of the Fire Nation and, basically, has gone totally off the deep end and become his father's son. I'm gonna put Aang at around 19, and you can judge everyone else's age from there.  
This is kind of going to go like Escapades; the universe and war is in my head, and from there I'm going to write out separate – and out of order, er – one shots. I might consider a longer fic far in the future, when I finally finish out Shadows, but for now I'm going to be happy to play around in this world. As usual, the main pairing will be Kataang, but I have some plans, perhaps, for some other couples, so we'll see what happens there.  
Mostly, I'm intrigued. I want to see who picks up on the hints I've dropped about previous events and how clear things actually are in the fic.  
A big thanks goes to JoJoDancer, who, once I wrote the first half and explained where I was going with it, insisted that I write this. Other thanks go to Sifu Toph for some much needed encouragement.  
May I apologize in advance to any big Zuko fans? I swear, it's all in good fun!

* * *

Chapter 1 – A Cold and Broken Hallelujah 

It was the worst kind of travel weather, and for once, Katara was glad. The night was dark and cold, with the storm clouds blocking out any possible light from the moon and stars. Icy rain poured in a steady rhythm, soaking her feet through almost instantly and dripping from her hood into her eyes. Pulling her cloak tighter, Katara stayed as close as possible to the side of the building, straining her senses to hear past the raucous noise emanating from it to make sure that no one was following her in the shadows that were currently hiding her.

Behind the building was a small alleyway, a muddy, seldom used trail that the lanterns did not reach and that was useful for little else than holding the garbage of the various bar and inn owners. Squinting and concentrating for a moment, Katara could barely make out the dark shadow leaning casually against the back of the abandoned building next to the tavern.

"Have you been trained in the ancient and sacred art?" she asked softly, pitching her voice so that it almost melted into the sounds of the rainstorm.

The shadow tensed before giving a solemn answer. "Yes. I have been trained in the ways of catching penguins."

Katara let out a light laugh, then stepped closer to face Aang.

He held out his hand, allowing a small flame to spring from his palm, momentarily illuminating his eyes and the hollows of his face before Katara reached out and clapped her hand firmly over his, extinguishing the flame. "You should know better than to do stupid things like that at this point," she chided gently.

He moved even closer, allowing one arm to drift lazily around her shoulders. "A firebender is not out of place in the Fire Nation."

"You're not just any firebender," Katara said tightly. "Please tell me you aren't taking stupid risks like that."

"No," he assured her. "Not when I'm that close to the Fire Lord's palace." He paused, looking up into the rainy sky, then remarked, "I don't see why we couldn't meet inside. I mean, there's no one in the building next to us."

"I told you before," Katara murmured, checking again for eavesdroppers or intruders. "We could be ambushed anywhere. We have to meet outside so that you can take off if you have to. It's easier for you to escape into the sky if you don't have to crash through a window or break through a roof first."

"You're forgetting that I wouldn't leave you if that happened."

"Yes you would," she insisted. "You would have to."

Aang gave a resigned sigh, then asked, "How are your brother and Toph?"

* * *

While this was going on, Sokka and Toph were pouting in the corner of the tavern, under strict orders from Katara to be silent and not make any trouble while she stepped out to meet Aang. She had attempted to bribe them with drinks, which, naturally, was just making their grumbling louder. Sokka was shuffling a deck of cards, wishing desperately they hadn't left Toph's embossed cards back at the inn, while Toph was flipping chips and keeping two bare feet planted firmly on the tavern's cold stone floor. Both had their hoods pulled up firmly over their eyes, with their backs to the corner. It was a mark of what part of town they were in, that, even with their paranoid behavior, the two of them were still only the third most suspicious characters in the room. 

"Hey," Sokka said, holding up a card. "Queen of hearts or jack of clubs?"

"I told you," Toph snapped. "I'm not playing that game with you when I can't prove you're right. And it's a queen of hearts."

"You're wrong."

Toph's leg shifted. "You're lying."

Sokka swore. Toph grinned. "Go buy me a drink."

"No need," a smooth voice interrupted them. "I've got a round for you right here."

Sokka and Toph froze.

* * *

"So I left them with a couple of drinks." Katara looked back at the tavern apprehensively. "It doesn't matter. We're going to have to move on from here in a couple days anyway." 

"Where are you going to go?" he asked, attempting a casual tone but failing miserably.

"Aang..." she trailed off, looking down at her shoes – the rain was starting to seep in over her ankles and down to her feet - before answering in a low voice, "We've been through this. I can't tell you."

"Why not?" There was a distinct whine in his voice, and Katara felt her heart break a little bit.

"Because," she whispered, "If I tell you where we're going, and something happens to us and you're not there, I don't want you to know. You have to have that hope that we're alive somewhere, no matter what."

"I'm going to assume the worst no matter what."

Katara looked down and away, refusing to make eye contact. He let out a long sigh, then reached for her, taking her chin and forcing her to look at him.

"What other news do you have?"

She bit her lip before she could catch herself, a nervous sign he knew well. "What? What is it?"

"Azula's body was found about a mile north of the rebel camps. Lord Zuko has claimed Mai and Ty Lee as his wives. There is a rumor spreading that Ty Lee is already pregnant, but there's no confirmation for it."

"A mile north of the rebel camps?" Aang breathed, hardly believing her words. "He knows they're camping in the forests?"

"He was just toying with them," Katara choked out. "He knew where they were all along. They've already scattered and spread, and now they have no rendezvous point." She rubbed roughly at her forehead. "Please tell me you're being careful."

"I am." He made a vague attempt to reassure her. "I'm still watching the second passageway - he has guards at the ones Iroh showed us, and I'm not sure if he's leaving the second one open because he truly doesn't know about it or because he wants me to try and sneak in that way."

"Toph swears that tunnel is structurally unsound. I think he _wants_ you to try to get in that way."

"I don't think even _he_ knows what he wants at this point." Aang let out a sigh – his breath forming a small puff in the cold rain – and leaned back against the wall of the abandoned building. "Is there anything else I should know?"

* * *

Toph's foot shifted as she focused on the young man who had just joined their table, bearing drinks for both of them. Sokka had remained calm and subtly told Toph to stay quiet by introducing her as his blind-mute companion and himself as her bodyguard. Her frown deepened as she recalled that – she _would_ make him pay later – and watched his heartbeat carefully as the man told them about himself. 

He was a refugee from the north who was trying – here his heart picked up, pounding loudly in his chest – to steer clear of both Lord Zuko and the rebellion forces. Her foot slid across the floor, meeting the edge of Sokka's boot and firmly sliding her foot up his leg.

To his credit, Sokka didn't show a reaction, sipping his drink casually as he pointed out that there were rumors about rebels shaking up the town they were currently in.

The man's heart skipped a beat and his legs tensed – Toph tensed along with him – then he smiled and said, equally relaxed, "Yes, I do know."

All Toph saw was one of his hands quickly dropping from the table before Sokka flew out of his seat and struck her hard in the shoulder, forcing her out of her chair and pinning her underneath him to the ground. Above her there was a thump and the twanging and thrumming of a knife striking wood.

She slammed a fist down to the ground, thanking the spirits it was stone, and the floor under the table legs and the man's chair shifted, flipping him back and pinning him momentarily under the table. Sokka finally got up off of her, grabbing her by the back of her cloak and temporarily choking her while he hauled her off the ground. Once she had two feet on the ground she kicked, putting her heel down hard and forcing the man to stumble again just as he was starting to get up.

By now, they had the rest of the bar's attention. They probably _would_ have been okay if they had just stuck to weapons, but she had used her earthbending – no matter how many times Sokka lectured her, it was still instinct, and she couldn't help that – and earthbenders were wanted people in the Fire Nation.

Sokka was now fumbling under his cloak at his belt, a sure sign it was time for her to hightail it out of there.

* * *

Katara knew Aang was only listening to her reports from the Earth Kingdom with a half ear, his mind somewhere else entirely. 

"So there's been nothing from the Northern Water Tribe?"

She was not surprised at his question. The Northern Water Tribe was currently in charge of the most important of their missions. Her heart wrenched at the thought.

"Hearing nothing is good." Their positions had reversed and now she was trying to reassure him. "It means that they haven't been attacked and that everyone is safe. It means the Fire Lord still doesn't know about her." Her eyes moved away from him and up into the night sky, searching for some break in the clouds to show the moon and some source of comfort.

She startled when she felt his hands at her sides, moving underneath her cloak and skimming up to rest above her elbows and pull her slightly closer to him. "I know that it's good, technically. It's just, I spend weeks and months away, and I want to hear something, anything to know that everything is okay and that she's safe…"

He trailed off, and Katara remembered what he had said about automatically assuming the worst and wondered, vaguely, what horrible things he had imagined alone on nights like this.

"News travels so slowly, especially now when we're split up like this." He interrupted her thoughts, his voice low and mournful and not for the first time Katara found herself cursing stupid Lord Zuko and his inability to keep peace when it was handed to him; cursing him for taking the laughter out of Aang's voice. "If something happened to either one of you and I couldn't find out…"

His grip on her one arm tightened, almost painfully; the other hand had moved from her arm and into the hood of her cloak, wrapping around the back of her neck – knocking the hood partly away from her face - and pulling her forward to meet his lips.

She resisted for a half second – neither one could afford to let their guard down – but it had been so long since she had been with him just to talk, let alone actually kiss him or touch him; and when he finally gave into the urge she could refuse neither him nor herself.

Katara melted into him, deepening the kiss and wrapping her arms around his waist, holding him as closely as she could. It was raining into her hair and running down her neck, and the cold water from his cloak was soaking into her clothes, into her long sleeves and shoulders and chest, but she ignored it, content to be kissing – really, truly, kissing him and not just those little half kisses, those quick pecks on the lips they'd _been_ exchanging - him for the first time in months.

A strange noise filtered through, and it took her a moment to realize it was the squelching sound of two people trying to run through the mud even though they were sinking up to their ankles with each step. She tensed, but Aang was the first to react; hand still gripping her arm, he half dragged her back against the building, back into the shadows, but they were too slow – she knew it, the figures were already rounding the corner, they were going to be caught, it was over, all for the sake of a kiss –

And then one of the figures called out, "Hey Aang!" cheerfully – Toph – while the other one caught Katara at the hood, yanking it the rest of the way down in an attempt to pull her away and announced calmly, "It's time for us to leave," – Sokka – neither one slowing down all the while.

Katara stumbled at Sokka's blow. Aang scrambled to steady her, and they both called out at the same time, "What did you _do_?!"

Then the front end of the building next to them exploded.

Aang jerked forward, towards the building, as if fighting the instinct to go and help; Katara grabbed his arm and took off after Toph and Sokka.

"I can't even leave you in the corner of a shady bar without you two wreaking havoc," she grumbled at her brother. He failed to reply and the darkness covered any looks he could have thrown at her; instead, she could feel the waves of guilt coming off of him as the four of them ran out of the village, heading for the relative safety the forest and, for the first time in months, a night of finding comfort in each other.

* * *

Let me know what you guys think! AUs can either be a lot of fun, or really terrible, so I'm very interested in the reactions. 


	2. You Say You Don't Spook Easy

_A/N: This is a follow up to Chapter 1 – meant to take place at the same time – and it's a look in on Zuko and his state of mind. It isn't pretty. Crazy!Zuko is so much fun to write, although I don't know how much fun he is to read. The rating is still at T. I can't wait for the reactions to this one.

* * *

_

Chapter 2 - _You Say You Don't Spook Easy_

Sweat poured down Zuko's neck as he waited for the guard to unlock the door that would lead him into the cell. The air in the dark hall was heavy and oppressive, and the guard's face was very red in Zuko's torchlight by the time he swung open the heavy metal door for the Fire Lord's entrance.

Zuko stepped over the threshold and paused. "Don't you think," he remarked casually to the guard, "that it is rather cool in here?"

The guard's eyes widened; being addressed by Lord Zuko was a rare and dangerous occasion. Zuko had made it clear to his servants that it was a matter of importance if he chose to speak to them. "Yes, my lord," he said, dropping his eyes down and not making contact.

Zuko nodded, satisfied with his answer. "We'll have to find a way to keep it warm in here; I want my guest to be comfortable."

The guard nodded again and said something, but Zuko was no longer listening, his attention now completely on his guest:

"Sister." It came out more of a hiss than a greeting. Her head was up, eyes defiant as usual. She wasn't immune to the heat, and the redness of her face made her golden eyes glow even more than usual. He could only have guessed what she'd been doing before he arrived; when she heard him coming in she'd clearly scrambled to get into position, determined to maintain her air of aloofness.

The cell Zuko was holding her in was a small, windowless metal room deep in the lower levels of his palace – after he had searched for her, he was taking no chances with her escape.

The placement left Azula alone and weakened – the sun's rays did not reach down here. "I thought I'd spare some time from my busy schedule to come down and see how your accommodations were."

She said nothing, her glare expressing her hatred for him as deeply and honestly as words ever could. There was a bowl of uneaten food on the floor near the door; Zuko wondered for a moment how long it had been since she'd eaten and made a mental note to tell the guards to keep track.

If it weren't for the thick chains around her wrists and ankles, it could be any normal meeting in any other circumstances; she was sitting, crossed legged on the edge of her bed, an air of cold expectancy about her.

"I also thought I'd come to give you some news." No visible reaction outside of a slight twitch of her ears.

He sighed, resigned to her attitude. "Mai and Ty Lee are settling in nicely – it was an easy transition for them." He bent over, almost in a mock bow, and got close to her face. "Are you sure they were ever really on your side?"

She snorted then, the closest thing to words he'd gotten since the guards had dragged her and Mai and Ty Lee back to the palace, sneaking them in during the middle of the night – denying Azula a grand entrance even in defeat – and making them wait uncomfortably in one of Zuko's interrogation rooms until after he'd risen for breakfast the next morning.

In all truth, he really couldn't care less about Mai and Ty Lee; they were appropriate wives for him, at the very least – both came from noble families, no matter how they had squandered that heritage chasing after Azula around the countryside – but when it came down to it, it was about having something of Azula's that she couldn't have anymore.

He'd be hard pressed to think of something he hadn't taken away from her; he'd slipped from under her the throne she was supposed to have inherited, the country she was supposed to have led, the war she was supposed to have won, and now, finally, the last two people Azula was supposed to call family.

In return, Azula had taken exactly one thing from him.

Zuko never let Iroh's face stay in his thoughts very long; instead, he usually found a blank, all consuming, trembling anger rising up in him, along with steel determination to hurt those who had hurt him, to unleash the fury he'd kept inside him at the insistence of his supposed allies, to show his enemies the power he had and how easily he could crush them under his heel.

He would make them regret his leniency in years past.

If Azula could destroy the last of his family, well, then Zuko would simply have to make do with taking hers instead. And he would also take one last thing away from Azula before he was sure she was broken completely.

"I also thought you would like to know that your body was found in the forest a little north of the rebel camps."

Her eyes widened and her jaw drooped, just a little. Just enough to show Zuko that he'd hit his mark. Zuko gave her a little smirk before standing back, leaning informally against the walls and crossing his arms.

"It's over for you Azula. The rebels have abandoned their camps and have been scattered. And more importantly," he paused for extra emphasis; this was perhaps the most important speech he'd given since becoming Fire Lord, and all those elocution lessons were not going to go to waste, "they all think you're dead. No one will be looking for you, Azula."

Her nostrils flared and her breathing picked up. Zuko's smirk widened in anticipation. This was the moment he'd been waiting for: the true destruction of Azula – the breaking of the bitch that had hounded him his entire life. This was something he had craved for years and denied himself, and it was better than sharing the bed of any of the women he regularly chose to spend the night with.

Finally, she closed her eyes and dropped her head, her defiant glare gone. He reached out, tempted to pat her head like a dog. "Don't worry, Azula," he said, a tone of false concern in his voice. "I'll take care of you, the same way you always wanted to take care of me."

He turned away from her, a strange grin on his face and a feeling of euphoric relief going through him, his limbs practically trembling; he'd taken everything from Azula, including the hope she was supposed to feel.

It was all his now.

The guard started to shut the door behind him, and just as Zuko turned to go back down the hall, he caught the sound of Azula muttering to herself behind him. He paused for a moment, ears straining, curious to hear what she would say that could possibly bring her any comfort:

"_Zuko's lying, Zuko's lying, Zuko's lying…"_

"Keep telling yourself that," Zuko murmured, walking down the hallway and walking back up the flights of stairs that would return him to the main hall. "Maybe that will make it come true."

As he stepped into the sunlight, his eyes straining to readjust, a new shot of adrenaline ran through him, filling him with pent-up energy. He headed back towards the living quarters, wondering where his wives were. Spending time in the sun – and in close proximity to Azula – did that to him.

* * *

_Hope you guys like it and that the Zuko fans don't totally hate me… I do plan to explain, sooner or later, the back-story and tell what's happened to Zuko to make him this way. The next chapter, I think, might be Sokka and Toph – I'm not sure yet._ _Enjoy!_


	3. Fine Line, Between Love and Alibis

_A/N: Did I mention this AU is going to be Tokka? Well it is. This chapter goes way back in the past – assume that if Aang and Toph are 19 in chapter one, then that puts Toph at like, 16 in this fic, and Zuko's War has been going on for about a year and a half at this point. _

_This is part of a three chapter mini arc – the next chapter is Katara and Aang, and then I'll round it out with a third chapter of Tokka.

* * *

_

Chapter 3 – _Fine Line, Between Love and Alibis_

The smell of saltwater washed over them, spilling into their mouths with every breath they took, whipping around them in the sea breeze and washing over them as the tide hit the shore.

Sokka found himself relaxing for a moment, leaning casually against the wall in a dark dead-end alley within sight of the ocean. It was near evening, the time of day when the sky was dark orange fading into purple, barely any visibility possible if not for the round moon Sokka knew was rising behind him, if he cared enough to turn around and look. He zoned out, eyes trained on the shore, losing himself in his blank mind and enjoying the calming sound of crashing waves. Occasionally a dark silhouette would interrupt his line of vision; Toph was pacing relentlessly in her determination to feel out the whole scene before allowing them to move.

They were undercover in a little Earth Kingdom seaside port that was now occupied by the Fire Nation, looking for information on the remains of Lord Zuko's navy and who, exactly, was running things here in the Fire Lord's stead, and what kind of operations he was running in order to capture the Avatar or his Companions. This had led them to the dirtiest, grungiest, loudest bar in town, the surest place to get into a fight that was also the most popular resting spot for members of the navy on shore leave.

Sokka was unsure about their plan of action; Toph had easily overridden his objections – he never really had stood a chance against her, but lately it was getting harder than usual to argue with her. There was a loud crash from inside the bar next to him – Toph startled in surprise – but he merely sighed and reflected that he shouldn't have been surprised that Toph would be drawn to such places; someone who preferred the deepest, darkest parts of the earth probably _would_ prefer the darkest, dirtiest parts of humanity as well. She never really felt comfortable in polite society – memories of the never-ending balls and state dinners from the very short time of peace filtered through his mind – and it was kind of a shame, he thought, that now that she was old enough to really enjoy the benefits of sitting in a dirty bar, drinking and singing bawdy songs, that she had to do so with an edge of paranoia, never sure who might be right behind her.

They'd gotten stuck together with more and more missions of this nature when the fighting had started up again; Aang was by far the most wanted human being on the planet, and Katara was stuck to his side at all times; Sokka and Toph, while both recognizable and wanted as well, were better at hiding and looking inconspicuous. ("You mean we're better at lying!" Toph had cheerfully informed Aang, who'd gone beet red but hadn't disagreed.)

"Hey!" a small hand landed a blow to the side of his head. He stumbled forward and rubbed the wounded spot, looking at Toph and frowning.

"What was that for?"

"You're staring off into space again." Her frown was just as fierce as his. "You aren't going to be distracted the whole night, are you? Because there's a whole bar filled with Fire Nation soldiers next to us, and you're so out of it you didn't even see my hit coming."

He snorted in irritation and reached out and caught the edge of her hood, drawing it forward. "Well you didn't realize that your hood was so far back that I could see your eyes. Anyone will know who you are in an instant."

She batted his hands away impatiently. "I did too know! I was waiting for you to get your head together so we can get into the bar and get this over with."

He knew that tone; it was more cranky embarrassment than any actual annoyance – she didn't like to let anyone catch her in a mistake like that. "Alright. Are you ready to go?"

She put one hand back up to the stone wall, checking out the scene one last time. "Let's go."

* * *

Fire Lord Zuko had made cigars fashionable. Sokka hated them with an intense passion; the smoke stank and bothered his nose. Toph hated the smoke as well; even though she could see with her feet she used all her sense to keep a complete picture of everything around her in her mind and the smoke interrupted that sense of flow in her senses. Much to their chagrin, almost every single soldier in the bar had a cigar hanging out of their mouth, most of them blowing smoke right in the pair's faces as they slurred on about where they were being stationed next or why they had been sent to the Earth Kingdom; all useful information, but an overall intensely annoying atmosphere. 

They had both gone past their two drink limit and broken their cardinal rule about sticking together; at some point, two older, grizzled-looking soldiers at the bar had taken a liking to Sokka and boxed him in at the counter; their lips had loosened with age and Sokka allowed himself to indulge as they kept the rounds coming while they talked his ears off.

Out of the corner of his eye, he kept a close watch on Toph, who had made friends with a group of younger men crowded around one of the tables in the corner of the room. She'd earned her way to the table – and several rounds of free drinks - by beating every single one of them in arm wrestling, a tactic that'd made him intensely nervous, though outside of the one stray comment about her height and the fact that her hood was drawn up, no one seemed to notice yet that anything was off about her.

The table – which had grown so popular that it now expanded to include several other tables that had been hastily pulled over – was now creating a terrible ruckus as the members of the group attempted to out-brag each other while telling stories of terribly macho feats. Sokka watched with interest while making a mental note to investigate some of the locations the two older gentlemen were going on about – it appeared there _were_ active Fire Nation bases in the south, just as Aang had feared.

"No, no, no!" the guy next to Toph shouted, waving his arms in another's face before curling an arm and flexing a muscle. "You want muscles like these, you have to drink at least three raw dragon's eggs every morning-"

Toph laughed, putting a hand up under her hood to her mouth. The soldier frowned at her. "Laugh all you want, but it really puts hair on your chest." He accompanied this statement by reaching out and slipping a hand in Toph's cloak, giving her a friendly pat on the chest. A strange, half-confused look crossed his face; his hand didn't move.

Sokka's brain short-circuited.

What happened next seemed to come in slow motion; he automatically bolted from the bar, rudely interrupting one of the men who was speaking to him and booked it over to the table, a single thought in his mind: Protect Toph. Then time blurred, and the next thing he knew he'd picked the guy up by his collar and heaved him halfway across the room.

The bar went silent.

Before he could even take a breath a balled-up fist slammed into the side of his face. Sokka hit the floor hard, barely hearing the sounds of crashing and scuffling over the ringing in his ears.

Time blurred again, and the next time he came around again he was back outside, the salty air blasting into his face and forcing him awake. They were back in the alley they had started out in; Sokka slumped against the wall, Toph standing in front of him, arms crossed in anger.

"Are they…" Sokka rubbed his face and forced himself to stand, using the wall for support. "Are they fighting in there?"

"They sure are!" she exclaimed in a cheerfully sarcastic voice.

"Did you…" His mind was finally starting to clear. "Did you hit the guy that hit me?"

"_I'm _the one who hit you, moron." Toph snapped.

Maybe his mind wasn't clearing as much as he'd hoped. "Huh?"

She huffed, as if it should have been obvious. "Of course I hit you, you idiot. I had to start the brawl so that people didn't start asking questions. I could have played that off easily. I could have said there was armor or something – why did you just haul off and attack that guy for _no reason_?"

"No reason?" Sokka sputtered, his voice cracking in disbelief. "No _reason_?! He – he was – Toph – did you realize – he was," his stumbled over his words, unsure how to phrase it and settled on hissing, "_He was touching you inappropriately_."

"For a girl, yes! But he thought I was a guy! I didn't need your help!"

"I wasn't-" Sokka wasn't sure how to make her understand that what he'd done had been out of instinct and didn't actually reflect his opinion of her fighting skills.

"Why did you get involved? You're little bit of "help" in there nearly blew the mission entirely! You could have exposed both of us!"

"Damnit, Toph, I just wanted to protect you!" he burst, interrupting her tirade. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished to take them back.

She gaped at him, her face twisted in disgust. "I have _never_ needed your protection!"

Which was exactly why he was so desperate to give it, though she'd never understand. He made a useless attempt to pacify her. "I know you don't need me to protect you, but-"

"But nothing!" she half-shrieked, her voice rising dangerously. "I always thought you, of all people, would know that I didn't need anyone's help –"

"Of course you don't need my help!" Sokka shouted, leaning forward and grasping her by the shoulders and squeezing, trying to force the understanding into her. "But I'm not going to just sit there either! I can't just let something happen to you right in front of me! You can protect yourself all you want, but if I can prevent something from happening to you, then I _will_. Because –" he cut himself off. This was going into different territory, something they had both skirted the borders of but remained uncharted still. "Because nothing can happen to you," he finished quietly, hoping it would be explanation enough as his heart raced loudly in his ears.

There was a long pause from Toph. Her head was down, eyes trained to the ground as if she were concentrating hard on something. The hood of her cloak had fallen partway back again, but her long bangs had fallen into her face and he couldn't gauge her feelings at all – she was, literally, like a rock.

Finally she moved, shrugging out of his hold and turning her back to him.

"I can tell you're lying," she said quietly in a toneless voice. "You don't respect me, and you think I'm still a child."

With these words, she left him in the back of the alleyway, walking back towards the entrance to melt in with society.

"Toph!" he called, unsure of what had just happened and desperate to make her understand.

She stopped but didn't turn back to him. "You nearly blew our cover once," she said in that same toneless, dead voice. "Don't do it _again_." Then she slipped out of the shadows and back into the real world, easily mixing in with the crowds that were starting to spill out of the bar.

"Blow our cover?" he screeched. "_Your hood is down again_!"

Even though there was no response, he was pretty sure she had heard him; her hearing was certainly acute enough to pick him out of a chattering crowd. Sokka sighed and dropped his head against the stone wall in frustration, wondering how awkward the trip back to their head camp was going to be with Toph refusing to speak to him.

_

* * *

Part of the reason I enjoy Sokka and Toph so much is that they both have their protection issues – Toph can't stand the idea of anyone helping her (though she is getting better with that) and Sokka can't stand the idea of letting someone protect themselves. Which makes them fun to write. _

_Oh stubborn Toph. You think she'd have learned already that just because someone's heart is going nuts doesn't necessarily mean they're lying. _

_Confused yet? I don't blame you. See this entry at my Livejournal for more details and a choronological_ _listing of chapters: __artemisrae(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)40103(dot)html_


	4. There But For the Grace of You Go I

_**A/N** – This is the second part of my little mini arc – this chapter focuses on Aang and Katara and where they are at this point in the war. _

_Toph was 16 in the last chapter, which puts Aang at 16 and Katara at 18 here. _

_A slight warning, I guess – me and JoJoDancer both think it stays firmly in the "T" category, but if you're squeamish about nakedness then you might want to wait for the next chapter. _

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Chapter Four – _There But For the Grace of You Go I_

"Avatar Aang?"

Aang, despite years of intense training and routine, started and nearly tipped over from his delicate meditation pose. Rubbing his head and looking up at the young soldier who had interrupted him, Aang let out a laugh at the horrified look on the kid's face.

"Avatar, I'm so sorry to disturb you," he rushed out, "It's just, you told me to inform you when the scouting parties returned and-"

"Who is it?" Aang asked, jumping up and righting himself, brushing dirt from his front and trying not to sound too eager.

"Sokka's group, sir." Aang was careful not to let his face fall.

"Is anyone injured?"

The soldier shook his head.

"Where's Sokka?"

"Right here!" a voice interrupted any forthcoming response; the solder stumbled to the side as Sokka pushed him out of the way to duck into the little tent Aang had set up and was currently running operations from.

Aang crossed his arms and glared at him; Sokka, to his credit, reddened a bit before apologizing to the soldier and sending him off.

"Is he new?" Sokka asked, gesturing behind him. "I haven't seen him before. Most of the kids just push back when you shove them."

"Toph's been training them," Aang said absently, reaching under his pillow for Sokka's bottle of root rum – he'd been forced to pack lightly for the mission and left it in Aang's safe-keeping to prevent it from being lifted by a recruit – along with several marked-off maps.

He tossed the bottle to Sokka, who caught it easily one-handed and uncorked it – and unfurled the map, eyes tracing the route Sokka had taken with his little group.

"Is uh... is Toph's group back yet?" Aang didn't miss the note of concern underneath Sokka's casual tone.

Aang looked up from the map and studied Sokka for a moment. Things had been awkward between Sokka and Toph for several weeks now, after an incident at a bar in the southern Earth Kingdom. Neither one was talking – either about the incident or to each other – and both he and Katara were growing seriously concerned. Usually their fights followed a routine: Sokka would insult or upset Toph, they would settle it with physical combat, Toph would win, and they would each feel better. This time was different however, and their stalemate was starting to cause a problem in communications.

Tonight, however, was not the time for Aang to resolve their issues. "Mm, her group returned right after sunset," he murmured, dropping his eyes down again. "They found small Fire Nation forges to the south – it looks like Zuko is trying to build up the navy again and repair some of their destroyed ships."

Sokka made a noncommittal noise, tipping the bottle back. "The west is cleared. We found the remains of some campsites that looked like they'd been moved recently, but it was so small I wasn't too concerned." He shrugged. "Could have just been a small group trying to make it to Ba Sing Se."

"Is that what you really believe?" Aang raised an eyebrow, looking at him over the map."

Sokka shook his head. "The ground had been disturbed and the earth was scorched. Looked like Fire Nation soldiers and Earth Kingdom rebel forces to me."

Aang reached for his pack, looking for something to mark the map with, before hesitating and looking Sokka over with a critical eye. He was pale, making the dark circles under his eyes stand out even more. "When was the last time you slept?"

Sokka shrugged and Aang rolled his eyes and rolled the map back up. "Go get some sleep. We'll finish this tomorrow morning."

"I'm fine!" Sokka protested.

Aang shook his head. "I'm willing to bet you haven't slept a minute in the last two days. Go get sleep, and we'll finish tomorrow."

Sokka obeyed, standing up and swaying a bit before ambling towards the tent flap. He stopped for a moment, pausing and looking back at Aang. "Katara's not due back yet, is she?"

Aang forced a reassuring smile. "Her group did have more ground to cover than anyone else's."

Sokka smiled faintly and nodded, ducking out of the tent.

"Of course," Aang mumbled to himself, smile dropping off of his face as he fumbled with the map again, "that _is_ why we sent her group out a day early…"

He'd been expecting her group to return before sundown – it was a new moon tonight, and while Katara _was_ a master waterbender, she wouldn't have the advantage she typically had at night.

His eyes raked over the map again, this time following the canyon's marked-up northwest into the central Earth Kingdom, not quite skirting the great desert's edge. There had been rumors of small groups of earth and firebenders, searching once again for the Great Library out in the sand – Aang recalled, once long ago when he still called Zuko an ally, of telling him about the library and their experience, and at the time he'd dismissed the way Zuko's eyes had lit up despite the fact that Aang had insisted the whole thing had been buried and was never to be found. The next morning he had listened with only a half ear as Iroh described the way Zuko had holed himself up in his office with some of the royal family's ancient texts.

_Iroh_. Aang felt a pang of sorrow, knowing how horrified he would be at the atrocities Zuko was committing, at the war Zuko was pressing on in order to avenge him. He wouldn't have wanted it, and Zuko, in his grief, had never understood that when Aang had tried to reason with him.

An oil lantern still burned in the tent but was slowly starting to fade; outside all was quiet and still; Aang was probably the last one inside the camp other than the night watch still awake. He wanted to be awake when Katara and her group returned – mostly to make sure Katara didn't sneak off to heal any hidden hurts or conveniently work out her story with her group so that he didn't find out about how she'd almost died or been grievously injured or something – both things she'd pulled before, on these scouting missions.

His eyes followed her chosen route again, and he wondered to himself what they might have seen; he'd specifically chosen the northern route for her because despite the larger amount of ground to cover, it was the area that had been quietest in the last couple of months.

He was sure, he convinced himself, that they were just taking their time and covering the area closely. There was no reason for concern.

That was his last coherent thought before he dozed off.

When he awoke again, there was a great commotion outside the tent. He rolled off his little cot, figuring breakfast was being served and that the camp was starting to wake up for the day. He sat at the edge of the cot, rubbing his eyes and wondering at the noise; they were a large camp, but everyone knew that they had to be careful, especially in daylight-

Daylight.

Aang sat up straighter, actually opened his eyes, and looked around. There was no light shining into the tent. It was still night, though they couldn't be that far off from dawn. Eyebrows creasing in confusion, he pulled open one flap and peered out.

Two of his recruits whizzed by in front of him, rushing up towards the front of the camp, where there seemed to be a crowd gathering. Lights bobbled against the black night sky - lanterns had been lit and were being passed around.

Adrenaline shot through him – only one thing could stir camp up like this, and that was the return of an injured party. And seeing as only one scouting party had yet to return –

His legs took off from underneath him, zooming around recruits and forcing his way through the crowd that had gathered at the front. The pair who had been guarding at the gate had their hands up and their voices raised, pleading for everyone to stay calm as they tried to sort through those who had returned and those who were trying to help.

Aang stopped short when he finally caught sight of Katara, standing back behind the guards, looking utterly exhausted as her blank eyes stared off at nothing in the darkness. Her clothes, once a light green designed to blend in with the Earth Kingdom forests, were now stained a dark burgundy from neckline to knees. Her hair was coming out of its braid, hanging in her face and sticking out at awkward angles. There was a long streak of red on her forehead; she had been cut and hadn't healed it yet.

Aang's heart stopped, and for a moment all he could do was freeze and gawk at her before lunging forward towards her, elbowing people out of the way, needing to touch her and make sure she was really there and breathing.

"Avatar Aang?" One of the guards was trying to get his attention. "What should-"

"Are there any critically injured?" Aang asked, trying to scan through the crowd and reach out for Katara at the same time.

"It doesn't look like it – everyone has either been healed or is just exhausted."

"Then get Sokka or-" Aang cut himself off. Despite the commotion, neither Sokka nor Toph had come out to see what was going on. His frown deepened. "Pick out the worst off, and get them to beds. Once people start clearing out it'll calm down."

His hand closed around Katara's wrist and gently tugged her closer to him. His fingers easily picked up her pulse, thrumming with relieving regularity. The guard looked at her, concerned. "Is she-?"

"I'll take care of her," Aang said quietly, pulling more firmly this time to separate her from the crowd. She responded, and allowed herself to be led from the crowd and back to Aang's tent.

There he settled her at the edge of his bed and busied himself by searching for a water skin and a ceramic bowl. Heating the water, he offered her the bowl and asked softly, "Did you lose any?"

She dipped her hands in the water and wiped at her face. "Three." She didn't make eye contact.

"You can't heal everyone at once." His hand reached out and grazed her forehead. Katara jumped. "You didn't even bother to heal yourself."

"I forgot," she said faintly, dipping her hands into the now rusty colored water again and moving them back up to her forehead. Aang put the bowl down and moved behind her, ignoring the blue glow of her healing and focusing on her bloodstained clothing.

The blood she was coated with had dried, leaving the fabric stiff and heavy. He picked up what was left of her messy braid and pulled it loose, letting her hair tumble down her shoulders and back. He ran through it lightly, catching on tangles, but despite it all Aang marveled at how soft it still was between his fingers.

One hand traveled down to her side where her tunic was knotted, and tugged at the ties, opening the top and peeling it away from her skin. He pulled it over her shoulders, and she finally moved, drawing back her shoulders towards him to let him pull her arms from the sticky sleeves. His fingers brushed down her arms, and she shivered slightly under his touch.

Aang instinctively froze, but she didn't object or try to stop him, so he continued on, taking her by the shoulders and pushing her up, forcing her to stand and turn to face him.

His gaze traveled upwards first, past the smooth plains of her stomach and to the bindings that covered her breasts, which, he noted with dismay, was also soaked through with blood – _had she healed herself of some deeper hurt and was trying to hide it?_ – then went back down to her waist.

Aang reached out again, taking a tentative hold on her waist and feeling the warm skin beneath his hands before sliding them together to meet at her navel and the ties to her trousers. The knots came undone easily, but the cloth was so saturated that it was tacky, and instead of fighting with the material, he merely took hold of the waistline in each hand and firmly yanked, ripping the top of the pants and rolling them down to her ankles. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, fingernails leaving marks on his skin through his tunic as she clutched him, and she delicately stepped out of the trousers before settling down next to him on the bed again.

Still neither spoke; Aang was moving automatically, without thought or plan. Immediately his hands sought out her chest, moving to her side where the bindings were knotted. It wasn't the first time he had undressed Katara, but it wasn't a familiar action yet, and he had trouble picking at the knot. She didn't move, eyes still staring blankly into the rapidly cooling bowl of water, waiting patiently as he finally untied and unwrapped the fabric from around her chest, dropping the bindings onto the floor with her other clothes.

A small sigh of relief escaped him; there was no mark on her body, either from a wound or one that had been recently healed. It appeared that the blood on her body truly had come from others, and despite the fact that Aang knew he should be mourning the loss of life, he was mostly grateful for Katara's health – that she hadn't been damaged or hurt and had returned to him again.

This thought calmed his nerves somewhat, and he didn't notice that she was trembling until his hands ran down her side, back to her waist to remove the last item that remained on her body. Again he sought out the knot before realizing that he might have to rip those as well; the blood had soaked through the tie so that the material had swelled. His grip tightened, but before he could do anything her hands finally moved, falling away from his shoulders and down to his hands, batting his wrists away and wrenching the fabric away from her body. She let it fall to the floor as well; Aang resolved to burn the clothes in the morning. Red looked absolutely awful on her.

All he'd wanted was to get the dirty clothes off of her and check for himself that she was uninjured; he'd been moving out of numb concern and not any other ulterior motive. His objective achieved, he noticed, very suddenly and clearly, that he had her totally naked, on his bed.

"Bwuh," he said, his blush falling over his face like a heavy curtain. Lunging off the bed, he reached for his pack, intending to give her one of his own tunics.

Lightning fast, her hand caught his wrist and pulled him back towards her, one hand pulling him down and the other arm wrapping around his neck and drawing him down for a mind-numbing kiss. She leaned back, and one of his arms reached out to brace himself so he didn't crush her underneath him. Katara seemed to want that, however, as she moved her hands again, gripping his shirt and breaking the kiss while dragging it up over his head. Her legs shifted also, moving up to wrap around his and hold his body against hers, wanting to be as close as possible.

Katara tossed the shirt somewhere behind her and cupped his face in her hands before pulling him back down into another hot kiss. He could feel her desperation; there was an anxious, despondent quality in the way she moved her mouth against his and whimpered quietly. He responded, opening his mouth against hers, wishing more than anything to reassure and comfort her.

But when her hands moved again, sliding from his face down his shoulders to his waist and the ties of his trousers, he stopped, once again bracing himself and pulling away from her. She let out a soft cry, a half whine, hands stilling at his waist.

"Katara," he murmured, one hand brushing stray hair from her face. "Are you sure you're-"

She cut him off by craning her neck and capturing his lips again. Her mouth opened and her tongue brushed his and distracted him for a minute, but when her hands made to move below his waistband he paused and pulled away despite the heat that was rapidly growing between them.

"Katara I don't want-" he really hadn't wanted this. She had come to him, covered in blood and exhausted and hurt not physically but mentally – all he'd wanted was to make sure for his own peace of mind that she was whole and unhurt. He didn't want to take advantage of her when she was clearly in a vulnerable state – she needed quiet, and a chance to rest.

Then he looked at her – really, truly, looked into her eyes – and understood. People had died that night. She had saved some but not all; she had consoled and soothed and swept away the fears of others, and now she needed someone to do the same for her.

He swallowed hard, getting rid of the lump that had formed in his throat, and softly brushed his thumb over her lower lip. She shuddered against him, and he took a deep breath, trying both to cool his nerves and ignore the warmth that emanated from her heated body.

"Okay," he said softly, dipping his head back down to hers. "Okay."

Outside, dawn began to break.

_

* * *

Oh, melodramatic fluff! _

_I must confess, for any of you who have read Essence, the 50 sentence set I did, that this fic is based entirely on one of the sentences from that fic (#27 – Blood) and that I couldn't resist putting it in Gauntlet 'Verse as a one shot. _

_Confused yet? I don't blame you. See this entry at my Livejournal for more details and a choronological_ _listing of chapters: __artemisrae(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)40103(dot)html_


	5. You Never Call Me When You’re Sober

_A/N: Same as last round – Toph is 16, Sokka's an idiot. The conclusion to Chapter Three and the companion to Chapter Four: Exactly what were Sokka and Toph up to when the injured party returned?_

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Chapter Five – _You Never Call Me When You're Sober_

Sokka blinked, laying flat on his back and staring into the darkness that surrounded him. After Aang had ordered him to get some sleep, he had actually listened and returned to his tent, carefully tucking away the bottle of root rum and crawling into his sleeping bag, genuinely desperate for some sleep after spending the last two days awake while trying to guide his scouting team back to camp. He was as exhausted as humanly possible, but no matter how long he lay there he could not find sleep; he had been tired for so long that he had come right around to being fully awake again.

The nagging voice in his conscience wasn't helping him either. There was unfinished business to be taken care of, and the longer he put it off the more he feared confronting the issue.

_So go fix it, moron_

Sokka wondered vaguely when Toph's voice had become the one of his conscience. He had a clear choice: he could continue to lie there and hear Toph's voice in his head or get up and go attempt to talk to the real thing. A minute later his sleeping bag was shoved off to the corner as he whipped open the tent flap and stalked clear to the other edge of camp, where Toph had pulled up her own rock tent.

When he arrived at the little stone hut, he found himself stroking his chin, feeling vaguely vulnerable and wondering how to proceed. There was no doorway – should he knock?

His question was answered when he heard a cry of "Go _away_!" followed by a loud bang as the wall facing him dislodged itself and shot away right towards him. Sokka scrambled to get out of the way and just managed to dodge it; leaning against the entryway now created was a short, blind, _very_ angry earthbender.

"I don't want to talk to you," she informed him in a very low, agitated voice. Sokka ignored her and breezed easily in through the large hole in the way, taking a moment to appreciate just how neat and orderly her normally messy little space was. Either she was so angry that she had cleaned the place out or she was sick of stubbing her toes.

"You don't have a choice. We have to talk," he said pointedly, ignoring the unhappy look on her face. "Don't you have a lantern or something?"

"Of _course_ I have lanterns! I have a _ton_ of lanterns! I use them _all the time_, for all that light I need to _see_ where I'm _going_!" her voice rose. Sokka located a spare lantern in a traveling pack – it actually belonged to a recruit and Toph had clearly mixed their packs up – and lit it, setting it on the floor in the middle of the room.

"If you're going to be yelling the whole time then replace the wall of your tent so that we don't wake up the whole camp."

She bristled at the perceived order, and he wondered whether it was wise to effectively trap himself with her in a dark room with thick walls where no one would be able to hear him scream. Toph turned and stamped the ground, and a stone wall popped out to replace the one she had thrown at him – but then Toph coughed, and the wall cracked up the middle. She cleared her throat and then stamped again, and this time the wall replaced itself properly without breaking.

Sokka frowned at her, wondering about her behavior when the glint of a purple bottle near her bed caught his eye. He bent over, squinting at it, and confirmed his suspicions. Toph had been drinking – and drinking hard, judging by the more-than-half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the floor.

"Have you been drinking this since you got back to camp?" he blurted out, turning and looking at her.

She didn't bat an eye. "Yeah." Walking over and snatching the bottle out of his hand, she threw herself back onto the bed – one hand behind her head, legs crossed casually, other arm dangling the bottle dangerously off the side of the bed, the position of ultimate aloofness – and managed to train her sightless eyes on him, a trait that always unnerved him. "As you can see, I managed to go on a mission and come back completely unharmed, all by myself." She paused. "Without you," she added helpfully.

Sokka rubbed his forehead. Toph was not going to make this easy for him – not that he had expected she would, but there was a difference between what he expected in his mind and then actually meeting it face-to-face. "Aang said you found forges in the south," he said, unsure where to start but wanting to fill the silence.

"I don't want to talk about that either," Toph snapped.

Clearly something had happened on the mission that had upset her. His instinctive concern for her was squashed down in favor of irritation. "Is there anything you _do_ want to talk about?"

Her eyes narrowed and she sat up from the bed. "Look here, Meathead. _You_ came to _me_. I didn't seek you out – you came here. I don't _want_ to talk, least of all to you or about you."

Right. Whining was never going to work, and he wasn't sure why he'd ever decided to employ it as a tactic when it had _never_ worked against her.

"Look, Toph, I'm going to be honest-" he could feel his heart picking up again and his arms tingling with nervous energy. Toph's arms crossed, but her feet, now hanging off the bed, were firmly on the floor and he was sure she could tell. "You're a good fighter. You're probably the best fighter I've ever met-"

"You shut up!" she shrieked, slamming the bottle against the edge of the bed and breaking it. She jumped from the bed and the next thing he knew she had a tiny fist curled in his tunic, dragging him down to her level, holding the broken end of the bottle to his neck. "You're lying. You forget that I can _tell_ when you're _lying_!"

"I'm not lying!" he protested angrily. She started against him, letting out a low growl, and he added hastily, "And I don't understand why you're using that bottle, when you're standing on a dirt floor."

She released him instantly, dropping the remains of the bottle onto the floor and falling into her favorite stance. "I knew that."

"Right." Unconsciously, a hand came up to inspect the area of his neck the bottle had been resting on. "Look, I wasn't lying about what I said – after all these years, all the fights we've seen-"

"Sokka," she interrupted, her voice quiet and almost mournful. "Your heart is racing, your breathing is irregular, and your stance is unsure. Those are the tell-tale signs of a liar – you can't cover them up."

"Toph I'm not like this because I'm lying –" though he was unsure. How far should he press her? How much should he reveal? Should he lay it all out and risk changing everything permanently?

She always did this to him – made him doubt his actions, made him wonder what to say next, constantly putting him on the defensive and forcing him to question everything. It was awful and it was frustrating – but it made him a stronger person because he had to work for it.

He was going to have to work for this too.

She stiffened in front of him and cocked her head. "Something's going on outside-"

"Listen to me, Toph, for once in your life," he interrupted, taking a deep breath and willing his body to stop betraying him. "I didn't protect you because you _needed_ me to. I protected you because I _wanted_ to. Because I –" he'd gotten this far and discovered that he couldn't say it. "Because it's you. Because you're one of the strongest people I've ever met and –" and he couldn't bear if something happened to that.

Toph's arms loosened, and fell to her sides. Her lower lip popped out in a little pout, a sign of her concentration, and she looked, for the first time all night, _calm_.

"Your breathing has evened out," she pointed out. "And your heart has slowed down-"

He cut her off, grabbing her by the shoulders, bending down, and kissing her. She squealed in his mouth, but he was beyond caring – if she was only going to trust his words if they matched his physical motions, then he was going to have to back up what he said with something physical to prove his seriousness.

She didn't fight at first, but a moment later her arms came up and pushed firmly on his chest. He let her go instantly, and the implications of what he had done slammed into his mind. Before a blush could bloom on his face, however, Toph pulled an arm back and slugged him hard across the jaw.

His head snapped back and he stumbled backwards, kicking over the lantern and plunging them into darkness. An arm flailed out, looking for a wall to gain purchase, and then suddenly there was this weight in front of him, wrapping her arms around his neck and clawing at his shoulders and hauling herself up, legs pushing off the ground and forcing him back even farther. Her lips hit his chin, then his cheek, and then finally connected with his mouth again, at exactly the same moment his back connected with the wall of her tent.

He exhaled, losing his breath, and she responded by whimpering and tightening her grip, hands nearly tearing his tunic in an attempt to get closer to him. His knees started shaking, and then gave out, and they sank to the floor, where they finally broke apart.

Sokka's nerves were singing, his legs still trembling, his arms steady only because they were hooked around her waist. Her face was still close to his – she never really had grasped that concept of personal space – and the look on it, as she kneeled in his lap and leaned against him, was unsure.

He exhaled again, calming his nerves, and looked up into the darkness above him. Things couldn't go back to normal now, not after this – but they could evolve into a whole new sense of normal. It would take time for them to adjust – and it wouldn't be easy – but they would fight through it. And they would be stronger for it also.

"So…" he licked his lips. "Got anymore of that whiskey?"

_

* * *

Oh dear lord, I wrote confession fic. I very rarely do that, and never even play around with it with these two, seeing as (and I know I've stated this before) I don't so much ship romantic Sokka/Toph as much as I ship best-friends-with-benefits Sokka/Toph. But I decided that since this has turned into the fic where I let all my melodramatic urges out, I could write it for Gauntlet. _

_Next up is another chapter of this (I wrote these four chapters out of order, then had to go back and write the preceding chapters so that I could post the first ones I wrote) and it's another Zuko piece – Zuko and Mai, to be specific._

_Confused yet? I don't blame you. See this entry at my Livejournal for more details and a choronological_ _listing of chapters: __artemisrae(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)40103(dot)html_


	6. These are Just a Couple of My Cravings

**WARNING: MATURE CONTENT.**

_**A/N**: A Maiko chapter, meant to take place within a couple months of chapter 1. Mai and Ty Lee are Zuko's wives at this point, and have settled in at the palace. _

_This borders on disturbing. No joke. Warnings for kinky foreplay, though no actual sex itself. _

* * *

Chapter 6 - _These are Just a Couple of My Cravings_

The upside to being one of the Fire Lord's favored wives was the privilege of knowing his schedule; Mai had only been waiting behind the door for a few moments when the knob began to rattle and the door slowly swung open. She had a half-second to confirm the red scar and the long black hair in the dim lantern light of the hallway before she moved, her knife the only thing gleaming in the darkness as it rested against the Fire Lord's throat. The door banged shut as he stiffened in surprise.

"My lord has been dipping into the vintage wines again," she said softly, her warm mouth breathing the words into his ear. "Otherwise he would not allow himself to become so lax."

"I was escorted back to this room, you know," he said just as quietly, his body automatically relaxing under her arms once he identified her.

"Yes, it is very unusual for one of the Fire Lord's wives to greet him in his bedchamber. I doubt they'll be rushing in to save you." Her grip on the knife tightened, trying to prevent herself from shaking. "I could easily do it, you know."

"And you also could have easily done it the last three times you've ambushed me in here," he countered easily. Zuko did not sound annoyed; instead he sounded almost amused, as if he enjoyed the deadly little games that one of his favorites liked to indulge in.

Despite the fact that she was used to his taunts, his words hit the target and the knife slipped; she didn't realize at first but a moment later warm blood seeped between her fingers, loosening her grip on the hilt. She knew it was nothing significant by the fact that he hadn't lost his temper; he'd probably done worse shaving and would explain away the mark as such.

It was a sign of just how much he favored her that she was even allowed to have the knives in the first place. Most of his wives lived quietly in their assigned living quarters; neither making eye contact nor protesting when their night with Lord Zuko came up in the draw. Mai and Ty Lee, on the other hand, as his right and left hand, were granted the rooms farthest from his and given some legitimate free range through the palace.

It was a knife's edge they balanced on together: Mai and Ty Lee pretended to be loyal; Zuko pretended to trust them. They were both well aware of the guards who watched a little too closely as they went about their duties and the servants who tended to rifle through their drawers while cleaning out their bedrooms. It was worth it, however, to turn a blind eye to these things in order to keep the access they currently had to the Fire Lord in return.

Zuko was silent as Mai took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing nerves and bring herself back into control of the situation. One hand lifted from his shoulders and came up to her mouth; she could make out the dark streaks running down her hand. Zuko's head turned slightly at her action, curious to see what she would do. Her tongue darted out, flicking against the pad of her thumb and drawing that strange metallic taste that she knew so well into her mouth.

"I know of many who would pay an entire room filled with gold just for a vial of this blood – any sign to know that my lord is vulnerable in some way," she murmured, leaning forward, her cheek touching his, while tensing the arm still holding the knife at his neck. Zuko, as usual, did not show any reaction.

"Most of them live right in this palace," he responded, turning slightly in her arms and ignoring the blade and the threat of her slippery hold. Before she was even fully aware of what he was doing – either he had gotten faster or her own reflexes had slowed – his arm had traveled up under her own and come to rest at the back of her head; his fingers threaded through the thick black strands and pushed her forward, her lips crashing against his open mouth in a hot, possessive kiss that stole all her concentration and caused her to completely forget about the knife in her hand; there was little to no protest when Zuko's other hand came up to his throat and tugged the blade from her hands, throwing it somewhere across the room. Some part of her that was still conscious heard the thick twang as the knife embedded itself into wood – probably a piece of the priceless antique furniture that filled the room – but was way beyond caring as Zuko gripped her arms and started dragging her towards the bed.

The edge of the bed hit her at the knees, and she stumbled back, landing softly on her back with Zuko pressing down on top of her. One knee nudged between her legs, and he finally broke the kiss and moved down her neck, leaving a trail of kisses from her jaw line down to the hollow of her shoulder.

He had one hand above her head, bracing himself while the other hand traveled up her side and tugged at the ties of her dressing gown, carefully pulling the edge up and away, allowing the silky material to pool at her sides. Her hands curled into the sheets, anticipating his next move, but instead of untying her bodice he instead moved back up to her shoulders, his warm skin dragging over hers as he shoved one hand roughly down the loose sleeve of her dressing gown.

"Just one knife isn't your style," he murmured, a half smirk on his face as his fingers located the dagger at her forearm. With the flick of a wrist it was disconnected from her arm and he drew it from her sleeve, carelessly grazing her skin and leaving a long thin trail of red up above her elbow. She hissed in pain and looked down at the red stain that was blossoming on the plum colored silk before she looked back up at Zuko, his eyes shining with the same intense light that had always entered Azula's when she was excited. She wondered why she was thinking of her friend now as she shuddered beneath Zuko, watching as he lifted the dagger to his mouth and repeated the same action that Mai had performed earlier, the knife glinting as he ran his tongue over it and then tossed it away behind him, his gold eyes never leaving her grey ones.

She let out a soft whimper as his head dipped down once again to kiss her. The taste of her own blood was still on his tongue, overwhelming her senses to the point that she didn't even notice that Zuko had gone down her other sleeve to find the knife attached to that arm. The steel was warm, a mark of how heated her own skin had become, and he brushed the broad side lightly over her chest before using the sharp edge to cut the laces that ran up the side of her bodice.

They popped loudly, and she paused to raise an eyebrow at him. "My lord should not ruin his family's fine things."

Zuko didn't spare her a glance, totally focused on peeling the bodice away from her body. "My mother isn't coming back to claim them."

She finally stopped him, pushing his shoulders and sitting up slightly. Zuko rocked back onto his knees, arms crossed, watching intently as Mai shrugged out of her dressing gown. Before she could grab the bodice, however, he batted her hands away and pulled it away himself, flipped it over and running his hands over the inlaid silk. He found what he was looking for quickly; the hem of the hidden pocket caught his fingers and he dipped in and tugged out the hidden dagger. His brows furrowed as he looked at it and then held it up for her inspection.

"Is this from my private stores?"

She said nothing, letting her silence speak for itself. He snorted in amusement, not at all upset that she had been into his private weapons stash as he contemplated the emeralds in the hilt.

"This was a birthday gift from the king of Ba Sing Se. The greeting was signed from his pet bear."

A dangerous look crossed his face; one of nostalgia and remembrance. It was the same look he usually got when he received updates from his plants on the movements of the Avatar and the Earth Kingdom army. It usually led to long stress-filled, candle-lit, often-violent nights as Zuko kept himself as busy as possible to prevent himself from dwelling on tainted memories. A shot of panic went through her, and in desperation she reached up and cupped his face in her hands before drawing him down for another hungry kiss, meant to both distract him and put his mind back on track.

She completely ignored the fact that she was so far off track she couldn't remember her original purpose for coming into his bedroom in the first place. It was as if she expected a different outcome every time she met him here, as if the undeniable magnet that always drew her to him could somehow be overcome and ignored.

Her hands curled in the lapels of his jacket pulling him even closer, crushing his body against hers. Then, desiring to feel his skin against her, she pushed at the jacket, trying to get it off of him. He sat back once again to remove it, giving Mai time suddenly to remember –

The servants tiptoeing around and whispering all morning. The more reverential than usual treatment of Zuko by his advisors. The jealous muttering amongst the lesser wives.

The jacket was off and he was pressing against her again, the heat between them growing more and more intense with each passing moment. She rocked hard against him and then reached between them to pull at the ties of his trousers. When he paused to untie them completely, Mai was given another moment –

Ty Lee. Ty Lee coming to her in the morning, with bruises on her arms and hips. Ty Lee, crying through breakfast and through their morning service to Agni. Ty Lee, curling up in her bed, arms wrapped around her midsection, unsure of how to act or how to feel.

She remembered why she had originally come to confront Zuko, just in time for his hips to meet hers once again, for another wave of heat to wash over her. His head dipped down again, and she smiled smugly against his lips.

One of her hands wrapped around him, holding him against her and giving her enough purchase to twist slightly underneath him. Zuko gave a muffled, approving groan at the extra pressure as Mai hooked one leg around his. Her other hand reaching around to the small of her back to grasp the hilt of the last small knife that Zuko had missed…

She ran her tongue over her lips and then placed a chaste kiss against Zuko's lips. "I'm ready when my lord is."

_**

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A/N:** I KNOW. I KNOW. I knew this was going to a very bad place when I wrote the first couple paragraphs, got stuck, and then said to JoJoDancer, "Should I have Mai lick the blood off her fingers?" and Jo went, "OMG YES." _

_So yes. I've written a fic that featured knife play, blood stuff, Mai's Azula issues and Zuko's mommy issues. Hopefully, I shall not alienate you readers out there. _

_Confused yet? I don't blame you. See this entry at my Livejournal for more details and a choronological_ _listing of chapters: __artemisrae(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)40103(dot)html_


	7. The Promise of a Coming Day

**A/N**: _We're going way back in time now, to before Iroh died and Zuko totally lost it. According to my (very very loose, general) timeline, Aang is around 13 here – it's not long after the war has been won and Zuko's taken the throne._

_I do plan to expand upon this eventually – this is just at the beginning of Zuko's downward spiral. _

* * *

Chapter 7 – _The Promise of a Coming Day_

"Katara, are you up?"

The lump next to Aang groaned and shifted under the blankets a little. At the voice, Aang burrowed further under his pillow, hoping to make it go away.

"Katara?"

Halfway between sleep and alertness, Aang heard Katara's tired voice murmur back at Toph. The blankets shifted, and Aang cringed in anticipation of a flood of light, but none came and he realized it was still the middle of the night.

"Iroh said Zuko isn't sleeping again." Aang had thought he was more foul-tempered than usual earlier today. The Fire Lord often suffered from intense headaches that made him sensitive to light, ruined his concentration, and interrupted his sleep cycle. The more stressed he was the worse the headaches got - and recent events had made Zuko very stressed indeed.

Katara hoisted herself from bed with a sigh, rubbing her eyes and looking around for her water skin. "I don't know how much I can do..." she said uncertainly. It seemed every time she had used her water to soothe Zuko's pain it came back within an hour.

There was the soft click of the door, and Aang allowed himself to relax again. It seemed like a rare night when he was allowed to sleep and wasn't up until nearly dawn working, and an even rarer night still when he was actually allowed to sleep at all.

He and Zuko had learned the hard way that the only thing more difficult than taking the throne was keeping it. Despite the fact that Aang had a responsibility to the whole world, the majority of his time was easily spent with Zuko, helping to hold his delicate reign. There were angry peasants, sick of being taxed, and angry nobles, upset at how the standards of their living had changed, and angry merchants, tired of living in debt and traveling on dangerous roads and tumultuous seas. Both Zuko and Aang genuinely wanted to make a difference more than anything but were rapidly growing overwhelmed with endless responsibilities – and recently bands of rebels had popped up all over the Fire Nation, backing Azula and seeking some way to end Zuko's reign and put the former princess on the throne.

Zuko was torn by indecision; Iroh kept insisting that he shouldn't use brute force to crush the rebels, that the public would see that as a sign of Zuko turning into the dictator that his father had been, but the fact was that the only way to effectively get rid of the rebels was to arrest them and set an example, whether by execution (Aang had shuddered at the suggestion, but Zuko had simply nodded) or by long term confinement. Zuko trusted Iroh's advice over anyone's, but that didn't change the fact that he had to keep his nation peaceful _somehow_.

Not much later he was once again drawn from sleep by the bed dipping as Katara crawled back into it. He reached out for her blindly and draped an arm around her waist, pleased when he felt her cool hand cover his. His mind started to drift again, and it took him a moment to realize Katara had spoken.

"Hmm?"

"I said I'm worried about Zuko," Katara said quietly, turning under his arm so that she lay face to face with him.

"Of course you are," he murmured, eyes still closed.

"Iroh is worried too – I think that's why he's trying to run interference between Zuko and his advisors."

"That makes sense." It was the natural order of things for Iroh to worry after Zuko.

"Zuko told me when I was treating him that his advisors won't stop asking him to take a wife."

"They're always bothering him about something," Aang agreed, not following the thread of her conversation.

"They're pressuring him to secure the throne as fast as possible, but you know how hard it is for him to trust –"

Aang interrupted at that moment, something very important that Katara had said filtering through and suddenly hitting him. Sitting up, now wide-awake, he blurted out, "What do you mean, take a wife?"

Katara peered up at him, her long hair spilling over the pillow and exposing her slightly confused face. "They want him to get married."

"To _who_, exactly?" Aang demanded, feeling slightly defensive.

"I'm not sure," Katara said, eyebrows creasing. "But they think it's important that he do it soon."

Aang rubbed his head, sitting up further and hooking his arms around his knees. "If they're choosing to focus on that-"

"They're worried about Zuko's ability to hold the throne," Katara finished for him. "They want an heir to guarantee the blood line,"

Aang rubbed his eyes tiredly. Thinking longingly of the peaceful sleep he'd just been engaged in, he muttered, "If they're worried about an heir, then there's been news about Azula and the rebels-"

He cut himself off at the horrified look on Katara's face. "What?"

"You don't think," she asked in a low tone, "that they would hear something about Azula and not tell Zuko?"

"I do," Aang said seriously. "Zuko's advisors took a huge risk, backing him when he took the throne. They need him to stay healthy, to prove they made the right choice. If keeping news about the rebels from him saves him from an afternoon of stressing and making himself sick..."

"Why wouldn't they tell _you_?" Katara insisted, refusing to believe that the advisors could do something as treacherous as keep news from their superiors.

"Because they know I'd tell Zuko," Aang answered automatically, knowing it was the truth. Despite Zuko's health issues, they'd always been frank with each other about dealing with the nation; Aang wouldn't skirt around something as important as rebels conspiring against him. It bothered him that he knew this, that he'd learned how to play the court game and how to read and act around the advisors; in a different life he was still three years away from even finding out he was the Avatar, let alone helping lead a rebellious and unstable nation.

The curtains in the room were still drawn tight, but Aang could see light growing along the bottom edge. The sun was coming up, and soon he would have to rise and settle into his daily routine, starting with his usual morning meditation with Zuko.

Katara's hand rose from her side up to his knees, taking one of his hands and squeezing it gently. Feeling some of his anxiousness ease, he looked down at her, smiling gently and covering her hand with his free one. She started to say something, but Aang missed it, distracted when he felt something under his hand.

Frowning in confusion, Aang lifted his hand and peered closely down at her wrist. In a clear line up her wrist and the back of her hand were the small, curved grooves; crescent moon-shaped like the marks nails made-

"Did Zuko do this to you?" he blurted out in astonishment, running his thumb over the deep marks; Zuko had come dangerously close to drawing blood. Katara started, her half-lidded eyes popping fully open. Craning her neck to look at her wrist, she nodded slowly before settling back down against the pillow.

Aang's jaw clenched and he sucked in an angry breath, but before he could say anything Katara interrupted: "He was in a lot of pain when I went in. Even the light from my healing hurt him." Aang's glare failed to subside and she sighed, "He apologized before I left. Told me that he couldn't help it. Said he didn't know what he'd do without me."

"Zuko _said_ that?" Aang asked incredulously. It was rare for the Fire Lord to openly express any of his feelings other than anger.

Katara gave him a wry smile. "I _told_ you I was worried about him." She paused for a moment, her eyes fluttering closed, before amending, "He was half asleep. He had no idea what he was saying."

"Even so," Aang murmured, looking at her wrist where the Fire Lord had gripped her again, his own grip tightening unconsciously.

The ability to predict the future was not one of his gifts; he had met only one who had claimed to tell the future and even she had later admitted that her predictions could be easily swayed or changed.

But right then, sitting awake in bed in the Fire Lord's palace, with dawn waiting patiently behind the curtains, Aang had a premonition. Katara's breathing was starting to even out; she was quickly falling back into sleep but still Aang held her hand. He would make sure he was far more observant of the interactions between Zuko and Katara from this morning on; despite what Zuko clearly thought, Katara's hands couldn't heal everything.

_**

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A/N:** Kinda boring, eh? But important for establishing Zuko's mental state and where the divide between him and Aang starts. _

_At this point, I must also make a reading suggestion: with my nudging in the right direction, Sifu Toph has started a story based off of this one, an AU of the AU, so to speak. It's titled Darkest Before Dawn and it's under my favorites in my profile._

_Confused yet? I don't blame you. See this entry at my Livejournal for more details and a choronological_ _listing of chapters: __artemisrae(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)40103(dot)html_


	8. We Can Never Go Back to Another Time

_**A/N:**__ Yes, after a too long hiatus, this story is in fact alive. This chapter keeps us in flashback mode, meant to take place several weeks after Chapter 7, still fairly early in Zuko's reign as Fire Lord. Aang's 13 here, Katara 15. We get more clues about what's going on, both in the country and in Zuko's head._

* * *

Chapter 8 – _We Can Never Go Back to Another Time_

When Katara finally returned to their bedroom, it was to find Aang pacing furiously, chasing a path around the bed centered in the room and looping around the short table stacked with paperwork on the other end. For a moment she stood in the doorway, watching him with worry on her face, and then she stepped fully into the room, making sure the door clicked shut behind her.

"Aang," she said quietly, worrying her hands. Aang stopped short at the sound of her voice, standing between the bed and the table and staring at her. Katara merely stared back, refusing to flinch in the face of his intense gaze.

"I want you to leave," he suddenly blurted out, rubbing his head and resuming his pacing, walking through a much smaller circle this time by following the width of the room instead of the length.

The bottom dropped out of Katara's stomach. "_What_?!" Never once, in the entire time they'd journeyed together, had he said such a thing. "Aang, you can't let Zuko's talking back at dinner-"

"It's more than that Katara," Aang said flatly. "It's not just Zuko talking about needing a wife and then asking you to treat his migraines at all hours of the night. It's the things that are happening in this country, and the way Zuko is handling them when he thinks no one else is paying attention."

"What do you mean?" Katara asked, feeling a familiar spike of frustration. In recent weeks Aang had shied away from sharing details of his meetings with Zuko and his advisors – what Katara did know had been told to her by Zuko. According to the Fire Lord, the majority of his focus was on finding a wife and procuring an heir, but the way Aang was talking made her feel like she hadn't been given the whole picture.

With a heavy sigh, Aang once again stopped pacing, giving her a torturous glance before sitting down cautiously on the edge of his bed. "This isn't about you, you know that right?" Katara's eyebrows rose and Aang scrambled to clarify. "I mean, it _is_ about you, but it's not about how _you're_ acting or treating Zuko. I trust you, and I did trust Zuko, but Katara…"

He trailed off again, and Katara took a step forward anxiously, wanting him to continue. "What?" she demanded. "But what?"

Aang leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. "The rebels are openly attacking Fire Nation soldiers and raiding small towns, and each raid brings them closer and closer to the palace. Zuko's going to authorize interrogation and capital punishment soon, and Iroh and I can't talk him out of it."

It took a moment for Katara to regain her breath. "You don't mean…"

"I do." Aang's voice was still low and hollow. "And even worse, the country will thank him for it. Iroh thinks it'll upset the citizens, but it won't. They'll be thrilled. Ozai's war was about dominance, and submitting to the good of the country, but Zuko, _Zuko's_ going to convince them all this is for their own good, that this is what they need." Rubbing his eyes, Aang added wearily, "Those who figure it out will run and join the rebels as soon as they hear and those who are too dumb to see that Zuko's acting just like Ozai won't realize until it's too late."

"Then I should stay!" Katara protested. "Why would you send me away if there's going to be a fight? I want to stay with you!"

"Katara," Aang said, almost sternly. "Zuko invited you to his bedchamber in the middle of the night at dinner in front of everybody. I don't care if it was to treat his headache, and I don't care that nothing's going on – he _knows_ how that sounds in front of his advisors, especially when they're pressuring him to marry!"

"I want to stay," Katara repeated stubbornly. "I don't want to leave you here alone."

For a moment Aang was silent, and then he reached out and snagged her wrist, tugging her closer. Her hand skimmed the top of his head, and with a sigh Aang wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face against her stomach.

"Then come back," he finally murmured.

"What do you mean?" she asked, tilting her head down to look at him. Aang pulled away, his eyes bright again, licking his lips as he jumped up and resumed pacing once again.

"I'll send you North," he said slowly, as he worked the idea out in his head. Then, with a shuffling step and a rub to his eyes, he turned back to face Katara again. "I think Zuko's feeling isolated, and with rebels closing in he's starting to feel trapped. If I can get the other nations to show some goodwill towards him…" His eyes, almost wild, flicked back and forth between Katara and the table piled with parchment, as if he were unsure of what to do first. He finally decided on Katara, and, taking both of her hands in his, said in a low, excited tone, "Look, I'll send you to the Northern Water Tribe, just for a little while. For a diplomatic mission. I want you to pick out one of their best healers – someone who specializes as a midwife – and bring her back to the Fire Nation capital."

"Are you serious?" Katara's tone was incredulous against Aang's excitement, but he barreled on regardless.

"In honor of the Fire Lord's upcoming marriage." Aang nodded. "He'll be wanting to start a family soon, and the Northern Water Tribe only wants a healthy, strong heir for the Fire Nation's throne."

"Aang…" He was so excited about it, and it seemed like a good idea except…

Except it seemed like trouble was heading towards the Fire Nation capital, and it sounded like Aang was willing to bring in someone innocent and possibly put them in the way of that trouble. Surely it was better for her, an excellent healer and a skilled fighter, to stay and serve?

Still, there was something unnerving about the way Zuko had been watching her lately, and the way he'd been speaking to her. The act of healing another was naturally an intimate experience, and she'd served as confidant to many people over the years, but Katara knew that Zuko, in his desperation for good health, a close family, and a healed nation, was starting to see more in these experiences than was truly there. She'd seen the way his eyes followed her hands, and the way his eyes lit up when she healed.

Aang was still looking at her through his big eyes, his thumbs rubbing slow circles against the back of her hands. The Fire Lord had an honor guard, and Iroh, and she and Aang and Sokka and Toph were all still there in the palace. They'd protected the innocent before, and perhaps another healer would truly help ease some of the tension that was choking the palace.

It didn't change the fact that she was just as unnerved by Aang's enthusiasm for the idea as she was by Zuko's recent actions towards her.

"Okay," she sighed, tightening her grip in Aang's hands. "I'll go."

_**

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**__**A/N:** Now, because I feel the need to specify this: this story is in no way meant to actually be a Zutara/Kataang triangle – Zuko's simply obsessed with Katara's healing ability, and Katara and Aang are were helpless to do anything to prevent it._

_This chapter is devoted to the one who finally kicked me and forced me to start writing for this series again: Heliogoland. If you haven't read any of her stories, go, now. She is an underappreciated gem in the Avatar fandom, having written some of the cleverest stories I've ever read. _

_Confused yet? I don't blame you. See this entry at my Livejournal for more details and a choronological_ _listing of chapters: __artemisrae(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)40103(dot)html_


	9. I Will Not Lie Me Down in Such a Storm

_**A/N:**__ This is meant to go along with Chapters 7 and 8, still in flashback mode. Toph is 13 and Sokka is 17. Features Pre-Tokka, of sorts? Turns out that the Fire Nation isn't the only one struggling post war…_

* * *

Chapter 9 - _I Will Not Lie Me Down in Such a Storm_

"Toph." Sokka's voice was gentle as it rang through the air. "Sit down. I'll take care of this."

For a moment Toph hemmed and hawed before finally relenting, turning the teapot over to Sokka before returning to her seat, curling up on the cushion next to Iroh and turning her teacup over so Sokka could serve.

It was midweek, and it was also mid-afternoon, which meant that Toph was sitting down to her weekly tea with Iroh (with extra sessions snuck in on weekends and some days after dinner, if both are feeling restless), and which also meant that Sokka was having tea with Toph and Iroh.

What had once started out as a chance to relax outside of court and gossip and discuss things without worrying about the ever-prying ears had taken on a much more serious function: Toph was no longer a confidant of Aang's, and when Sokka had tried to get information out of Katara he'd learned that the Avatar was holding back even from _her_. Neither dared approach Lord Zuko – once, the relationship between the three had been filled with banter and bickering, but as Zuko's stress level rose, his health declined, and his temper with it. Iroh was the only one who could tell the pair exactly what was happening in the court that they'd become tangled up in.

Today's tea was particularly important – something big had gone down. Toph had been able to tell by the way both Aang and Iroh's vital signs had picked up, and by the slump of relief that had taken in Zuko's shoulders.

Sokka poured the tea and got himself settled on his own little cushion next to Toph, and Iroh turned to her and asked quietly, "How do things look?"

Toph braced her feet on the floor and scooted back, off the pillow to the edge of the throw rug on the floor, lifting it and putting one hand down as she concentrated.

"The closet people nearby are a couple servants in the eastern hall," she reported, eyebrows smoothing. "They're well out of earshot. I think we're clear."

She returned to her seat, and not for the first time Sokka found himself terribly unsettled that Iroh was so worried about being overheard – and, even worse, not just overheard, but spied upon – in his own private quarters.

When Iroh finally began to speak, it was in a low, anxious tone. "Things are not going well for my nephew," he said quietly, staring down into his teacup as if it might house all the answers to his questions. "Reports are saying that the rebels are moving closer to the palace, and his advisors are recommending harsh punishments in order to set an example." He paused for a moment, then added, almost sadly, "I can advise him to do nothing but wait and he is growing sick and impatient with my answers. Punishment is looking like a better option to him."

"I told you," Toph groused, blowing back long bangs from her nose. "You should have let me take care of them when they first started popping up. It wouldn't look as bad if Aang or I was the one who took care of them."

"It would look _worse_ if Aang took care of them," Iroh said harshly, though there was no real bite in the retort. It was an old argument between them. "It would look bad to Fire Nation citizens who are used to sitting on top of the world, and it will only give the rebels more ammunition."

Silence fell between the three, broken only by Sokka rudely slurping his tea, and then Iroh said thoughtfully, "It has become a matter of respect for Zuko. He no longer sees the rebels as citizens of his country, but as flies that he needs to swat away."

Sokka gave Iroh a worried look. "Aang can't possibly be supporting this, can he?" It was an impossible suggestion, a peaceful air nomad supporting controversial interrogation and punishment, and yet –

- yet Katara's most recent information had come from Zuko himself, and not from Aang, who'd been tense and nervous and snappy and secretive.

Something struck him square in the forehead. Taking a moment to rub the wounded area, he quickly turned a useless glare at Toph, who looked entirely unapologetic as she recalled the stone fragments she had tossed at him into the original form of her bracelet.

"Aang has other things than the Fire Nation to worry about, Sokka," she snapped. "Lay off of him. I'm sure Katara is questioning him all the time and you doubting him isn't helping either."

Normally Sokka would be chagrined, but instead he continued to frown at Toph. "Why are you defending him, Toph? You got the latest letter from Bumi, you've heard from your parents, you know what's happening back in the Earth Kingdom."

"Yes," she barked. "I know. I know exactly what's happening, and Aang does too, but the Earth Kingdom has two kings and the Fire Nation only has Zuko and a slew of bloodthirsty advisors. If Zuko isn't listening to Iroh anymore, then Aang needs to stay and back him up."

"And get us all into trouble?" Sokka snarled.

"You read those letters from home too, Sokka!" Toph was leaning over the table at this point, her tea long forgotten in favor of planting two hands and doing her best imitation of an angry bullmonkey. "The Dai Lee are reforming and nobody's money is worth anything! The earthbenders are going to start rioting! It's no safer there than here, and we're needed more here!"

For a moment Sokka was so frustrated with her he could have grabbed her by the shoulders in a physical attempt to shake some sense into her stone skull, but Iroh chose that moment to put his tea cup down with a soft clink and say quietly, "That's enough you two."

He couldn't have gotten a faster response from them if he'd struck them both with lightning. Instantly the pair settled back onto their cushions, still pouting at one another even if they were mercifully quiet.

"The situation in the Earth Kingdom is troublesome," he said slowly, looking at Toph. "Zuko does not know the full extent of it."

Sokka's frown grew deeper. "Aang hasn't told him?" The Avatar told the Fire Lord anything and everything he knew, despite Zuko's temper and health.

"Aang doesn't know the full extent of the situation either," Toph said in a low voice, tilting her head and curling her toes, her own version of avoiding eye contact.

Both Iroh and Sokka just looked at her, and finally Toph snapped, "Look, Aang doesn't talk to me anymore, alright? I can't even get close enough to him to make him understand everything that's happening, but he has to have _some_ idea because Bumi said that Aang's not responding to his letters."

"Are we sure Aang is receiving his letters?" Iroh responded, and silence fell over the table again. The three just looked at each other, and then slowly, deliberately, Toph scooted back off of the cushion once again, and put one bare palm to the stone floor, looking for eavesdroppers.

* * *

_Confused yet? I don't blame you. See this entry at my Livejournal for more details and a choronological_ _listing of chapters: __artemisrae(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)40103(dot)html_


	10. The Color of the Sun Burning Down

_**A/N**__: This continues still with chapters 7-9, still in flashback mode, but don't despair because there's this chapter and the next one and then we'll be skipping in the time line again. Takes place almost immediately after Aang and Katara's meeting in Chapter 8, along with Iroh and Sokka and Toph's tea part in Chapter 9. This chapter features Azula and one of her rebels, no one more than a random red shirt_

* * *

Chapter 10: The Color of the Sun Burning Down 

There was pain and there was fire and there were men yelling at him and it was so, so much worse than Azula had prepared him for but he didn't care because he was doing what he'd been told to do and he'd never been more important in his menial life and it was beautiful and it was _glorious_.

Water hissed into steam against his skin and he tried his best not to let the scream rise out of his throat – even if he knew his will would be broken, that was why he'd been sent; he'd been sent in another's place; he was going to make them work for it because she'd told him to make them work for it.

"_Tell them nothing but this_," Azula had whispered to him, her red mouth close to his ear and her dark hair brushing against his cheek. "_Tell them we are in the South. Tell them we want the ports_."

More water and more steam and more fire against his skin and yet nothing came out of his mouth – he would yield, and he would give them information; he would give them the information Azula wanted, but not yet, not until she said he could.

Her face remained in his mind's eye as he endured; she was the reason he was doing this; she was the reason he'd been sent; she was the reason and there was nothing he wanted more than to protect her and to please her.

Azula had been the first in his entire life to make him feel worthwhile, feel like he'd been living for something instead of despite everything. He'd been nothing but a humble farmer, tending to his crops as best as was allowed with the nobles creeping up on his land and Fire Lord Ozai sending his brothers and sons to war in the Earth Kingdom. Once Lord Zuko had taken the throne he'd held out some hope, but still everything was a struggle – it was a struggle to cull life from the earth and it was a struggle to convince anyone to buy what he was able to harvest and it was a struggle to make a profit off those he had swindled.

And Lord Zuko had done nothing but sit on his throne and blow kisses to the Avatar and the other nations.

Azula and a small band of the rebels had sought refuge in his house one evening, and though he'd wanted to resist – he could only guess what punishments Lord Zuko would impose for harboring his wanted sister – he'd quickly fallen into her world, swallowing everything she'd fed to him, still left wanting for more.

The nobles were still far too close, and so he'd abandoned his farm to them, allowing Azula to draw him into the thick forests where it might have been too wet to keep a fire lit but where there were others who were just as eager as he was – and where Azula always was. He'd felt more at home with them than he ever had with his hands in the earth, with the dirt under his fingernails, and so he was surprised when Azula had selected him to leave.

"_Go out_," she'd said to him, those amber eyes always glittering with the thoughts he craved. "_Go out and find me information on Zuko. Go out and keep them away from us. Go out and bring us back supplies_."

He'd been successful, those few missions. Azula had been pleased with him, pleased enough to allow him to come into her private quarters – what passed for private in that setting, though it had still felt disturbingly intimate – and sit with her, and let her ply him with the wine he'd managed to sneak back just for her, and once, for one thrilling moment, she'd reached out and touched her hand to his cheek and looked at him, really and truly looked into those eyes, and allowed him to see the depth of her desperation and determination to win back the throne that was rightfully hers.

He'd never wanted anything more than to be by her side, to stand behind her and do whatever she asked of him.

He was therefore honored when she'd asked him to go ahead of her instead.

"_My brother is seeking information on me as well_," she'd murmured, and he'd been able to feel the heat from her pale skin as she spoke to him, as if there was always a fire just waiting to explode from within her. He'd wanted nothing more than to be consumed by it, and so he'd allowed himself to be consumed by another's in her stead.

"_They will demand everything you know_," she'd warned. "_They will burn the information out of you. Leave them nothing but ashes_."

"_I am not afraid_," he'd reassured her.

"_I am not afraid either_," she'd reassured him as well, a smile curling on her face as she eyed him.

Men were talking to him again, and there was movement in the room, but it hurt to keep his eyes open – everything hurt; it hurt to stand still and it hurt to try and move away – and so he'd kept his eyes and his mouth closed and thought only of her face.

Pain flared up again, and he tasted blood in his mouth but still he said nothing.

"_Hold out_," she'd ordered, raking her nails across his shoulders, and Agni above, their whips had nothing on the welts her nails had raised. "_Hold out until the very end, and only then leave them with the South and the ports_."

The voices around him were growing hushed, and forcing his eyes open he found himself staring into a pair of amber eyes – amber eyes that glittered with excitement and the possibility of knowledge and victory. For a moment his heart leapt with the thought that she had come for him – she would not abandon him to fire and death after all, this was merely a test of his mettle, and how he'd passed with flying colors – and then those amber eyes blinked and he suddenly saw the rings of red surrounding the one and understood –

The prisoner sagged against his chains, letting out a cry of pain and disbelief, and without hesitation Zuko reached out and forced his head up, making the man look directly into his eyes once again.

"Now tell me," he said slowly, his voice pitched low and fire flaring behind him, "What you know of my sister's whereabouts."

* * *

_Confused yet? I don't blame you. See this entry at my Livejournal for more details and a choronological_ _listing of chapters: __artemisrae(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)40103(dot)html_


	11. The Demon's in the Design

_**A/N**: The last of this current flashback arc before we skip ahead in time once again. Zuko's about a year and a half into his reign, and is about 18 years old. This is a direct follow up to Chapter 10, and is a companion to chapters 7 – 9._

* * *

Chapter 11 - _The Demon's in the Design_

For the first time in weeks – months, probably – he'd slept the whole night through. Like a baby, actually, and it was remarkable how something a simple as a full night's sleep could clear his mind.

Uncle sat on his right, and the Avatar on his left, and stretching down the long table sat the men he'd come to both rely upon and fear: his advisors, the men he had hand-picked himself to help lead their rebuilding country.

For once, he was pleased to be standing in front of them. Though he'd never openly wavered under their watch – it would have been suicide – he'd grown to fear these meetings, where all he received was bad news and where more burdens were always added to the weight already on his shoulders.

"We'll need to fortify the ports," he said calmly, spreading out a map against the table and reaching for the flame shaped markers that denoted the military and its movements. "Azula is planning on attacking there, on cutting off supply lines and starving out the countryside."

"The harvest was terrible this year," one of his advisors mused. "I don't know that we would have enough stored to keep everyone fed. It certainly fits with Azula's agenda."

"Hold on a second, Zuko," Aang suddenly interjected, holding up a hand to catch his attention. "_Yesterday_ Azula was working her way closer to the palace. Why would she suddenly shift her focus south? It's…"

It was out of character, even Zuko had to agree. His sister was not the type to abandon a plan, but to expand upon it – she'd originally been sent to capture him and Uncle and had easily expanded that order to include the Avatar. She'd decided to take the throne, and when she found that Ty Lee and Mai were not enough to accomplish that, she had merely added rebels and increased the pressure upon Zuko's fragile government. Her latest plans had clearly had something to do with the heart of the Fire Nation, the capital itself, and it seemed weird at first that she'd suddenly look south.

But he'd seen the look in that rebel's eyes, and the way he'd sobbed as he'd given up his information and the way he'd called for Azula. He'd clearly been important to her, and he did not doubt the information he'd been given as the man had melted under his flames.

"She'll be in the south," he said shortly, looking away before he could see the way Aang's eyebrows raised and the look he gave his uncle.

"Lord Zuko," Iroh began, ever polite and proper as always – Zuko had told him several time that he was exempt from addressing Zuko in such a formal way but Iroh had always persisted and Zuko had always secretly appreciated it – "I have to ask where you came across this information. It doesn't match up at all against what's been told to us by your own scouts."

"That's because it was told to me by one of Azula's own rebels." It came out as a low hiss, and he pretended not to see the slight twitch of Iroh's eyebrows before he looked across the table at Aang again.

Understanding dawned.

"Lord Zuko," Iroh started again, slowly and as respectfully as he could be, "Are you honestly telling me - ?"

"He was apprehended yesterday afternoon, setting sulfur bombs down at the market. The information was given late last night."

"And how willingly was this information given up, exactly?" There was a far more sarcastic tone in Aang's voice than had been in Iroh's, but Zuko had learned long ago that the boy was merely his cross to bear. He understood how things like this worked far better than some young monk ever could, Avatar or no.

"It was given very willingly," Zuko assured Aang, the slightest smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. The man had screamed it out as if it were some kind of saving grace even if it had merely signaled the end of the interrogation - and with it, his doom. "And it was given to me personally."

Again, Iroh and Aang exchanged glances, and Zuko felt a shot of irritation go through him. It always bothered him how the pair had been able to have entire conversations through the mere twitch of an eyebrow or the puffing of a cheek; it made him feel like he was being left out of the loop, something he intensely disliked.

"If you don't believe me," Zuko said in daring, dangerous tone, "Then I can take you down to the dungeons myself and introduce you to him."

"I don't think that'll be necessary, _Lord_ Zuko," Aang snapped right back, putting that tiny emphasis on the word _Lord_ that he knew Zuko hated. Zuko was too busy breathing a sigh of relief that Aang hadn't called his bluff – he honestly wasn't sure what had happened to the prisoner once he'd left the room. It hadn't occurred to the Fire Lord to give any further directions regarding the man's fate once he'd gotten what he wanted.

"With all due respect, Avatar Aang," one of the advisors piped up, one of his older advisors from one of the more prominent noble families. "What Lord Zuko has done is so important. Think of the lives we'll be able to save with this information, both in the ports and in the countryside where food and supplies would be needed!"

"Think of the life that Lord Zuko had to ruin in order to do so." Aang muttered.

He couldn't help rolling his eyes when Zuko responded smartly, "The well-being of many should always outweigh the life of one."

For a moment he stood at the head of the table, glowering at the Avatar and avoiding eye contact with his uncle, and then with a sigh he waved his hand. "General Xie, please get me the latest infantry reports so we can decide who to send south. Everybody else is dismissed."

For a moment everybody in the room sat still, weighed into motionlessness by the heavy atmosphere, and then slowly the advisors started to stand and work their way out of the room. Aang and his uncle lingered, as he had expected.

His uncle had a ponderous look on his face, and for a moment Zuko merely looked at him before asking, almost defensively, "What is it?"

"I was just thinking," Iroh said sadly, finally pulling himself to his feet and brushing at his robes, "That the dungeons have been empty since Lord Ozai was defeated."

Zuko couldn't help the inadvertent whine at the mention of his father, escaping through clenched teeth, but as Iroh turned and made his way from the room Zuko lacked the words to call him back. He still felt he'd made the right decision, and he wanted more than anything for his uncle to understand and support him in that. His reign was useless without Iroh behind him, even if he did not rule the way Iroh would have himself.

He stared at the empty doorway where Iroh had once been, and then turned to look at the Avatar, who was looking at him somewhat disdainfully. Acting as the Avatar must have been swelling his ego, because his attitude towards Zuko had changed dramatically in the last few months.

"Can I have a word with you?" Zuko asked him quietly. He wanted to speak to Aang privately about the situation in the Earth Kingdom – Iroh had said something offhandedly while they'd been eating lunch and he, as the Avatar, was sure to have some insight.

"I'm sorry, Lord Zuko." Aang's eyes were distant as he also turned away from the Fire Lord. "I have to help Katara get ready. She's leaving for the north tonight."

Without another word, he started towards the door, and for a moment Zuko was too caught up in the terrible lack of respect Aang had just shown him.

Then the very important little detail that Aang had so casually thrown out wormed its way into the center of his brain, and Zuko couldn't help the terrible bellow that rose up in response. "What do you mean, Katara's leaving for the north?!"

* * *

_Confused yet? I don't blame you. See this entry at my Livejournal for more details and a choronological_ _listing of chapters: __artemisrae(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)40103(dot)html_


	12. Her’s is a Tonic and Mine is a Gin

_**A/N**__: We're skipping ahead for a two chapter Tokka distraction before we return to as close as I ever get to plot. This is meant to take place a couple months before Chapters 3-5, when Toph is 16 and Sokka is 19. In Chapter 3 I mention that Sokka and Toph have a two drink rule when on missions involving undercover activity – and here's why:_

* * *

Chapter 12 – _Her's is a Tonic and Mine is a Gin_

If there was one thing Sokka had learned about Toph during the years that they'd known each other, it was that Toph could be the most patient person in the room; the only one sitting and listening to what the world around her was telling her before acting upon it.

Another thing he'd learned was that once Toph had decided to act, she was doing it no matter the circumstances.

"Damn," he cursed, trying to pick up speed even though he was already running as fast as he could. He'd gotten caught up at a checkpoint, the guardians suspicious of his true identity even though there weren't many brown-skinned blue-eyed water tribe warriors running around; it wasn't until he had shown them the smooth scar running across his shoulder – a gift from Lord Zuko himself, he'd impressed upon them – that they'd finally listened to the message Aang had sent and let him pass to meet Toph.

Of course, he was also a good two hours late, and knowing her, she was going ahead with the mission without him.

Sure enough, when he arrived at the appointed meeting place, just on the outskirts of town, he was less than surprised to find that it was empty. In frustration, he wheeled around and kicked at the brick wall, and then spent a good seven or eight minutes hopping about on one foot, cursing her and himself and the universe in general. Then he paced for several more minutes and wondered what to do. Toph was supposed to return to camp with him, and he did not like picturing the look on Aang's and Katara's faces if he showed up without someone – anyone, let alone Toph.

Finally, after another, much softer, half-hearted kick at the wall, Sokka gave in and started the walk into town. At the very least, perhaps he could catch up to her.

He and Toph had been sent to a little town called Fuliji – one of the few free towns still remaining on the Earth Kingdom coast. It was small enough that it hadn't caught Lord Zuko's eye yet, but it was populated enough that they could send recruits from all three nations through there without raising too many eyebrows.

There was a young man living there by the name of Liu – a plain fisherman's son, but someone who kept an ear out for any news of Lord Zuko that hit the coast. He was an invaluable resource for Aang, even if he constantly resisted declaring an open alliance with the Avatar. He had his own sources, he always explained to Sokka, and he didn't think it wise to mix the two. Sokka took it to mean that he didn't think Aang would approve of the seedy sorts that Liu mixed with, and never asked too many questions. As long as he was useful and was staying out of trouble, Sokka didn't see the point in pressing the kid.

They usually met around the new moon, and Aang preferred to send Sokka and Toph along for the mission – he learned the hard way that information given second and third hand was already on shaky ground, but he always, _always_ trusted what Sokka and Toph spoke. It helped that Toph could weed out lies – more than once she'd called Liu on a half-truth only to quickly receive the correct version (it was never about anything important – maybe about how many people he'd heard it from or what night he'd met with whomever, but it was a habit Sokka was keeping his eye on).

This month, however, Sokka had been traveling south, scouting for locations that they could move camp to that would still be inconspicuous, and so he was already exhausted and running on little sleep by the time he had arrived. Finding that Toph had gone ahead had done little to improve his mood.

The night was cold; it had rained that afternoon, and though it had cleared up the sky remained dark, the ground muddy beneath his feet. The unpleasant weather had driven most other people out of the streets, and Sokka allowed himself the luxury of grumbling as he took high steps and tried to keep his boots from sinking.

The place he was headed to was a little hole in the wall that everybody usually went to on a bad day but instantly thought badly of anybody else who ever admitted out loud that they'd been there. It was dirty and dingy, but it was quiet and there were surprisingly few fights – usually because by the time men lowered themselves to drinking there they'd lost the will to do anything else other than drink until they passed out.

Liu usually favored meeting there, and Sokka just had to wonder what kind of life he was leading whenever he wasn't looking forward to meeting up with them.

Making sure his hood was drawn up, he ducked into the doorway, casting an appraising eye around the room to see exactly what was going on and who was there.

He didn't have to look long. Sitting in the far corner of the bar, with their backs firmly to the wall, were Toph and Liu. Liu's hood was down and Toph's was well on her way – her profile and bangs were hanging out, though the stray hair easily covered her notable eyes.

As soon as he spotted them from the doorway Toph tilted her head towards him. For a half-moment he allowed his heart to beat hard, relief pounding through him even though he knew he had no reason to worry. Liu was relatively trustworthy, and even if he wasn't Toph had proven more than once that she could take care of herself.

He shook his head at the pair and made his way to the bar, ordering a drink and adding it to Liu's tab before making his way over to the pair.

"Good thing you waited up for me," he hissed to Toph, sliding into the chair next to her.

"Nice of you to show up," she hissed right back, punctuating her greeting with a hard punch to the shoulder. Sokka grabbed at the table and was able to stop himself from hitting the floor, but the action was so routine that what he was actually think about was Toph's voice. It was slow and slightly slurred, which meant –

"Are you drunk?" Sokka asked, bending over and peering into her face. The whole place stunk of alcohol and there was no chance of singling out what specifically was emanating from her.

Toph's response was to punch him again, this time in his chest, right below his adam's apple. Sokka woofed and tried to get his breath back, and Toph smacked the table in irritation. "What's it to you? Drink your own drink, Meathead, and leave me to mine."

Dragging in a deep breath, Sokka turned his gaze across the table to Liu, who shrugged somewhat helplessly. "She's been like this all night."

"Shut up," Toph ordered, sliding her empty glass to him, "and go get me another drink."

Liu grimaced, but Sokka shrugged and so Liu got up and made his way back to the bartender. Once he was safely out of earshot Sokka nudged Toph. "What's the matter with you?"

"Where have you been?" Toph demanded, a fierce frown on her face.

"Got caught up," Sokka said shortly, taking a deep drink from his own stein.

"Yeah well next time that happens, want to give me a little notice? Especially when we're supposed to be meeting someone at an appointed time?" Her tone was still hostile, and an absurd thought rose in Sokka's mind. The mere idea was so crazy it made him giggle, and he tried his best to school his face into a solemn expression once again.

"Were you worried when I didn't show up?" he asked nonchalantly. Toph's little fist shot out once again for a third shot, but Sokka was expecting it and managed to scoot his chair back at the last moment. Toph hit air. "You were, weren't you?"

"You listen to me and you listen close," she snarled, reaching out again and just managing to catch the front of his shirt, dragging him closer to her. "I don't worry, and I especially don't worry about you. I expect you to take care of yourself, and I didn't want to have to explain to your sister that she was related to a non-bending _wuss_ who couldn't even scout some stupid camp fields without getting into trouble."

Sokka tried gently to pry her grasp from his shirt. "I think she knows already," he said wryly as she released him to lean back into his own seat. He didn't bother telling her he'd been equally worried to find that she had gone ahead without him. It would probably tick her off even more, and the fact was that they were both there now, and they both knew the other was okay. Things weren't going to get much better then they were now.

Liu returned at that moment, and Sokka raised his drink in greeting. "Tell me what you have to tell me then, Master Liu."

* * *

"He wants metal," Liu slurred at him sometime later. Toph, by this point, was a lost cause, but Sokka was still attempting to make some sense of what the young man was telling him.

"Metal!" Sokka agreed, trying to decide which of the two drinks in front of him to drink out of.

"He needsa metal," Liu continued, slapping one hand on the damp table, "For the – the – the," his eyes glazed over, and then new life suddenly appeared. "For the boats! The boats onna water!"

"I can bend metal!" Toph suddenly announced, and Sokka grabbed one of the salted rolls of stale bread – an inexplicably popular snack in the Earth Kingdom, and one served in every bar – and tossed it at her, hitting her square in the forehead.

"Shut up about that!" he hissed, snagging the bread from her lap – Toph was still patting her face and wondering where it had gone – and biting into it. For whatever reason, he was feeling inexplicably joyous. Sure, he was technically working, but there were good drinks, and Toph was there, and he was relieved that Toph was there, and Fire Lord Jackass was on the defensive again if he needed to build boats. Mostly though, he was happy Toph was there, and he didn't want her to ruin his buzz. "You're gonna get us into trouble!"

"Oh I will not!" Toph declared, and if he weren't so vexed with the girl he would have laughed. "Liu's not telling anyone, right Liu?"

"Nobody but you two," Liu said quietly, eyeing the bottom of his (long finished) drink.

"No!" Toph exclaimed, starting to push herself up and away from the table. "Not even us! You don't tell anybody!"

Sokka rolled his eyes and reached out, grasping her shoulder and shoving her back into the chair. She sat down hard, hands flying to steady herself, but Sokka had little sympathy. "Everybody already knows you're a metal bender. You say it yourself all the time. We don't want people to know that you're here."

"Yeah, whatever," Toph mumbled, burying her face in her drink once again. "Everybody ganging up on me, everybody wants a piece of me-"

"Stop whining," Sokka admonished, reaching for another roll. "You never let me whine."

"I can whine anytime I want to!" Toph declared, once again pushing away from her seat and managing to successfully maneuver herself to her feet, striking a pose that famous statues were made of. "I'm the world's greatest earthbender!"

Things started to happen very quickly after that. Sokka would never remember the exact order of things, but he remembered the silence that had followed, and he remembered shooting to his own feet only to realize that he had drunk an awful lot in an awfully short amount of time.

At the same moment, someone burst into the bar, slamming open the door and letting the outside world in – outside there were lights flaring, and people shouting, but over the din someone managed to cry, "The Fire Nation is invading!"

* * *

_Confused yet? I don't blame you. See this entry at my Livejournal for more details and a choronological_ _listing of chapters: __artemisrae(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)40103(dot)html_


	13. One More Night and One More Time

_**A/N**__: The other half of Chapter 12 and the completion of the prequel to Chapters 3-5. Toph's 15 here, Sokka 18._

* * *

Chapter 13_ – One More Night and One More Time_

"The Fire Nation is invading!"

When this proclamation rang through the bar, there was a long moment of silence in which everyone turned to stare at the now-empty doorway. Outside the door lights could be seen and yelling could be heard as people poured into the streets.

Sokka's slack jawed gaze returned to his companions; Toph's mirrored his own, her eyes wide and her mouth open, but Liu had gone pale, his lips pursing as he gripped the table in front of him.

"They- they actually came?' he said faintly.

By this point people were starting to move – some were heading out the front of the tavern, and others were ignoring the bartender's shouts and were heading towards the back to leave, and still others were breaking furniture for make-shift clubs for protection – and it was these sounds of movement that jarred Sokka out of his daze.

"Come on!" he said, reaching out to grab Toph by the wrist. "We need to get out of here!"

At least, that's what he had intended to say – he wasn't sure what words actually came out, what with the chaos and the fact that he was still incredibly drunk. He was reminded of this fact when he stood up to run for the door and suddenly found that he had no control over his legs and no strength in his knees. Toph had to steady him, her eyes glittering with excitement. "You see?" she whooped, "I'm so good that the firebenders _line up_ to fight me!"

"Shut up!" Sokka shot at her. "We are not fighting!" His tongue felt thick, and though he was thinking clearly he had no idea at all if what he was actually thinking was really coming out of his mouth. He tugged Toph towards the doorway once again, mind racing as he peered outside. The guards. They'd have to get out of town to the very same checkpoint he'd gotten held up at this afternoon – it was the closest safehouse if they were going to lose Fuliji – and they'd have to do it amidst a swarm of firebendenders.

"Come on, come on," Toph urged, rocking up onto her toes in anticipation. "We can take them!"

"Stop saying things like that!" Sokka scolded, and then stopped when he realized they were one short. Turning around, he saw that Liu was still sitting back at the corner, at their little table. "What are you doing?!" he bellowed across the rapidly emptying room.

"They're here for me!" Liu said anxiously, breaking his blank stare to look up at the pair near the doorway. "I'd heard – someone had warned me – but I didn't think it was real – I laughed –"

"You _knew_ this was coming?" It took every single ounce of self-control in Sokka's body not to reach out and snap Liu's neck. It was aided by the fact that he was still kind of seeing double and would have had no idea which neck to grasp, but the urge was still there. He'd known that the Fire Nation would be targeting this town and hadn't warned them? He had let them wander into what was going to become enemy territory?

"For me – they want me for paying off their sailors – " Liu babbled, but Toph huffed and stuck her heel hard against the ground. Liu shot out of his chair and across the room, landing with a crash behind the bar.

Sokka frowned at Toph. "What have I told you about earthbending drunk?"

"Come on!" Toph bellowed. "Come with us and we'll keep you safe!"

"We'll try anyway," Sokka muttered under his breath, still studying what was happening outside. The Fire Nation soldiers were marching comfortably in their regular ranks, the firebenders leading the way with the regular soldiers following up at a quick pace. The firebenders would burn out the entire town by morning at the rate they were going – every single building on the street they were tromping down was alight.

Fortunately, there weren't only Fire Nation soldiers in the street – plenty of Earth Kingdom citizens were out, whether they were running away or trying to fight. By the sounds of it, a riot was starting to gather near the center square of town, and some ranks were peeling off and heading back in that direction.

"Let's go," Sokka ordered, reaching back and grabbing Toph's wrist once again. She actually allowed herself to be led forward, and Sokka tossed a glance back just to make sure Liu was with them. He appeared to be – he was weaving badly and knocking into tables – and so Sokka took in a deep breath and stepped out into the crowd.

Immediately another person plowed into him; already off balance Sokka fell as well – only to land on Toph, who squawked in outrage and shoved him hard into the ribs to set him upright again.

"Here," Sokka muttered, taking a halting step forward. There was no way Toph could have heard him, but he still had a grip on one wrist. She refused to be budged, and when he finally turned to frown at her she glared right back at him. "I said let's go!" he shouted.

"That's the wrong way!" Toph shouted right back.

"You're lying!" Sokka huffed, trying once again to drag her forward. He was so confused and there were lights everywhere and people shouting and the last thing he really needed was Toph being difficult. Well, she was always difficult but what he really did not need was for her to be difficult towards him and what he needed her to do was exactly what he'd told her to.

Just as he opened his mouth to continue scolding her, both of her hands suddenly found a grip on his tunic. She screeched, "Sokka, _move_!" and shoved him as hard as she possibly could.He went flying, knocking into one of the wooden posts holding up the sloping roof of the building in front of him, just as he felt something whish by his head, barely missing him. He wasn't sure what it was - some heavy, blunt object heaved by someone from the crowd - but he heard where it landed as it struck the doorway to the building. The wood cracked and splintered, and by the time he straighted himself up it was easily kicked away by the people already starting to swarm into the building.

"Toph!" he called, trying to make sense of the crowd. "Liu!"

'_She's waiting_,' Sokka thought blearily. '_Of course she's waiting_…' Naturally, he had no chance of finding her, but there was no doubt in his mind as to the fact that she _was_ out there.

Someone grabbed him, but Sokka shrugged them off easily, still looking around frantically for any sign of Toph or Liu. They grabbed him again, fingers digging into his shoulder, and Sokka lashed out, hand fisted with no time to grab for his boomerang.

They fell back, but Sokka wasn't paying attention; the flash of orange had flared in the corner of his eye and he barely had time to throw himself to the ground before flames shot right where his head had been moments before. For a moment he lay there, covering his head and letting people step on him, and then, against all odds, he actually managed to glimpse two pale bare feet through the crowd of red and black boots.

"Toph!" he called – shrieked actually, his voice rising almost to the point of cracking – as he tried fruitlessly to haul himself up, slipping in the mud and barely stopping himself from landing face first in the muck.

He stumbled sideways through the crowd, knocking indiscriminately into people, and finally, mercifully managed to get a hand around Toph's elbow. Then he barely had time to blink before she let out a howl like a wet catowl and dislodged his hold on her, managing to simultaneously elbow him in the gut and nail him in the chin. He grunted, a quiet sound lost in the chaos, and as he started to fall back again he heard Toph's squeal of "Oh my - ! Sokka!"

Before he could hit the ground, however, she reached out and grabbed him by the front of his tunic, dragging him forward as she navigated them through the pulsing, rushing crowd and towards the outskirts of the street, practically throwing him in front of her as she forced him into the space between two buildings, barely enough for her to squeeze through, let alone Sokka with his broad shoulders.

At the end of the building there was a wooden gate; Toph dropped a shoulder and easily destroyed it, still tugging Sokka along behind her.

"This is still the wrong way," Sokka said fruitlessly, as if he could truly persuade her. She was clearly in total control of where they were going. He was merely along for the ride.

"You want to get to the safe house in the Wuhe district right?" she snapped at him, her breathing ragged as they tromped through the darkened alleyway that they had burst into. "You were pulling us towards the center of town you numbskull."

"But we're heading south!" Sokka protested. "We need to go north!"

"How about we get out of town and _then_ worry about which way to head?" Toph snarled, her face turned firmly to the ground as she made sure no one was tailing them. "It doesn't matter if we're heading in the right direction if we're going to have to fight an entire infantry of firebenders to get there!"

Right. Sokka felt a weird type of shame creep into his stomach. It was so obvious, and he'd nearly dragged them into even more danger than they were already in.

So focused was Toph on making sure they were alone and Sokka on his mortification that it wasn't until they had reached the end of the alley and Toph was carefully making sure it was safe to proceed that it finally hit Sokka. "Where's Liu?"

Toph stiffened, then slumped. "There's _three_ of us!" she moaned to herself, slapping a hand to her forehead before sighing helplessly. "What do we do?"

The wind picked up then, and carried upon it was the scent of burning wood and scorched flesh. Sokka's body suddenly seemed to realize what it had just been put through, and protested mightily. He turned his head aside and abruptly threw up, bringing up everything he had ingested that night and possibly more.

"Yeah." Toph nodded when he was finally done dry heaving. "I know what you're saying."

_

* * *

Confused yet? I don't blame you. See this entry at my Livejournal for more details and a choronological_ _listing of chapters: artemisrae(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)40103(dot)html_


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